


Unhappily Ever After

by rosesandstuff



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a sad ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, TW: Panic Attacks, tw: Criminal/Jail References, tw: Crying, tw: Cussing/Cursing, tw: Implied Sexual Content, tw: Implied/Referenced Drugs, tw: Insecurity, tw: Kissing, tw: Lightning/Thunder Storms, tw: Making Out, tw: anxiety, tw: death, tw: depression, tw: guns, tw: major character death, tw: weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-05 06:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandstuff/pseuds/rosesandstuff
Summary: This is the story of seventeen year old Virgil Hernandez and his life in the midst of his senior year in a world where everyone has a soulmate, but there’s a catch; you never know who it is and if you’ll ever meet them. Virgil knows better than to hope for the chance to be with his destined one and only, and thanks to the memories of what happened between his own two parents, he actually dreads that such a thing might happen and calls off love altogether. That is until he meets the dramatic and egotistical Roman Prince, who believes in everything he doesn’t, including happily ever afters. Between his own horrific past and Roman, Virgil is forced into a journey that will change his view on love and life forever. The only question is if his new-found story truly might have a happy ending or not.





	1. Once Upon a Dark and Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> Before we start, I'd like to thank my best friend/editor for helping me along the long journey of bringing this story to life, my family for putting up with all my ranting about this general, my homies on tumblr and wonderful promo artists for supporting me through the editing and posting of this, but most of all myself. Not because I think highly of myself or I'm bragging about myself either, but because self-love is important and I worked a very hard, rough, but great eight months on this story and I'm proud of how it's turned out. Now I'm excited to share this with all of you, so thanks to you also, dear reader. I hope you enjoy, lovely.

It happened nine years ago, but Virgil still remembered every detail of that day.

It was a particularly ugly, stormy night. He remembered his eight-year-old self reading in bed, as usual, and he heard the sirens outside his window, not really paying attention to them as he expected them to just roll past his house, past his life. But they just got closer, closer, until they were blaring right in his tiny, irritated ears. Half-annoyed and half-intrigued, young Virgil scampered over to his window, peeking out of it and seeing what he had dearly hoped he wouldn’t: a hoard of police cars in his driveway and pouring out into the street below.

Fear paced around inside his little heart, and automatically Virgil thought the police had finally come for him for all the cookies he would steal from the cafeteria in kindergarten. (In his defense, his almost-29-year-old mother was not good at any stereotypical motherly tasks, be it packing lunch or remembering to do laundry for both her and her child...) But he soon learned his theory was not the case. Not the case at all.

A knock pounded against the front door, and Virgil would never forget its sound. It would echo forever in his nightmares for the rest of his life; cold, commanding, and then silence. Aunt Valerie got the door before he did. She was staying over for a bit to babysit him while his mother and father went out to talk over some “adult things.” Virgil didn’t know what she meant, but he didn’t really mind. He was happy just spending the night alone with his book of dark poetry. His teacher always said it was too inappropriate for his age, but he enjoyed its company anyways.

Valerie had worn a tight smile at the beginning of the night as she told Virgil about his parents needing some alone time--one that was obviously hiding away some nervousness, but now she appeared completely terrified, making no attempt to hide her emotions this time as Virgil ran up behind her leg. Two large cops in navy blue uniforms took up the width of the doorframe, looking completely stern, angry, yet sympathetic all at the same time. When the first one spoke, his voice rumbled low in his chest like a heavy drum.

“Ma’am-“ 

“Valerie,” Virgil’s aunt finished with a shaky nod. “Valerie Hernandez.” 

“Miss Valerie Hernandez, we regret to inform you that your sister, Anastasia, is dead.” 

Virgil watched as Valerie’s whole body wobbled a bit more, like she was just hit by an invisible blow. Then tears splashed down her face and she choked, and the second officer came in to hug her comfortingly. But Virgil didn’t understand at all. Anastasia? Who was Anastasia? He thought Aunt Valerie only had one sister, Mommy. 

“H-how?” Valerie sobbed in the officer’s arms, and the other answered in a gruff voice:

“Murder.” Virgil shivered. “Mass-murder, on Sanders Street near the center of the city. We have reason to believe the person who committed this crime was your brother-in-law, Anthony Johnson, Anastasia’s husband. He’s in the back of one of ours cars, arrested, as we speak.” 

Valerie cried a bit more, then came to her senses and sniffled out, “...Why?” 

“We are unclear about his motives, ma’am. That’s why we’re here. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay.”

Virgil watched as the exchange continued, Valerie’s voice still vibrating weakly along with her body. At some point her fingers brush against his arm and she grabs his hand, squeezing it gently, suddenly aware he was behind her but not having the energy to move him away just yet.

“Was Anthony an alcoholic or consumed drugs of any sort on a regular basis?” 

“Yes, he was an alcoholic.” 

“Was Anthony ever abusive to your sister?” 

Valerie nodded, rattling off a few instances that Anastasia had mentioned to her. 

“Anthony was armed with an illegal weapon during the murder, a gun he obtained against the law. Are there any more weapons you know of that he owned?” 

“Yes, he has a collection that he’s... very proud of. I’ll show you,” Valerie said, opening the door a bit wider, making room for the two to step in.

Virgil moved a bit too and Valerie turned to him and let out a silent sob at the look of his curious, confused face. 

“Oh! Virge, my baby. I- Aunt Valerie has some things to talk over with these two kind gentlemen here. Why don’t you run upstairs and I’ll tuck you in as soon as I can, okay baby?” Virgil’s brows furrowed. What was going on? He wanted to know more about this murder... And where were Mom and Dad? 

The pair of police moved past her and walked into the living room, chatting with each other, and Valerie bent down to Virgil, putting her hands on his shoulders gently. 

“Auntie, where is Mommy?” His squeaky voice brought fresh tears to his Aunt’s eyes and she smiled sadly. 

“Mommy... mommy is gone. I’m so, so sorry, V.” 

“Gone?” What? Where? “When is she coming back?” Valerie looked down and let out a loud sob, bringing Virgil to her and hugging him tightly. Confused, but now emotional, Virgil hugged back, closing his eyes so hard he saw stars.

“Virgil, sweetie, your mom, sh- she’s... dead.”

And now Virgil understood.

-

Although, he really wished he never did. He wished he could bring back some of that childish ignorance, even if it was only for a day. Bring back an impossible world where his mother, Anastasia, wasn’t killed by his alcoholic, abusive, and frankly psychotic father, Anthony. But now he was seventeen and he was allowed to change his last name from Johnson back to Hernandez. With his father off in jail, never heard of again, it was the only revenge he could get on him. Despite this, he still burned for more against his sorry excuse for a father.

There was more to the story the cops had to later explain to Aunt Valerie. Not only did Anthony Johnson kill Anastasia, but he also almost killed everyone on the whole, busy street. He got away with twenty-three before the cops arrived. To think his mom actually thought they were soulmates—and in Virgil’s world, that wasn’t just a term of endearment. 

If there was ever something you could depend on in life, it was that you had a soulmate. Just like the fact that the world was round, it was something that was never doubted, never questioned; everyone was made for somebody, and that was that. But the sick part about the game was that you never knew when you found the one or if you’d ever find the one. 

Most people never did, like Virgil’s mother, obviously. She was just a twenty-one year old in college when she thought she found the love of her life, a man who ended up being her murderer. Anastasia had chased after romance and look where that got her. Virgil always promised himself he’d never do the same thing, and besides, he was never much of a people person. As far as he was concerned, his fate to live out the rest of his life alone was sealed, and he was completely fine with that. 

Virgil frowned as these thoughts passed him. He looked out at the sky beyond the café’s window, and a sigh escaped him, slow and full of pain. The strange similarity of that day’s weather to that of the day of Anastasia’s death caused him to grieve and now all he could do was stand and reminisce on his horrid past. 

“Something wrong there, kiddo?” Virgil turned to look at the guy standing next to him who had asked the question. Patton stared back at him, smiling, but also wearing a concerned expression beneath his thick glasses, and Virgil shrugged in response.

Virgil was fairly new to the neighborhood, having moved to this sleepy town in Florida after his Aunt Valerie got a new job opportunity. She was a painter, just like her sister was, and getting any sort of job offer was difficult. So, naturally, she took it. Even if her nephew was about to start his senior year of high school. Whatever, it’s not like Virgil had any friends he would need to say goodbye to, and his old home still reminded him of that terrible night nine years ago, so it wasn’t all that bad. 

But new school meant new job, unfortunately, and even if selling merchandise at Hot Topic was near and dear to his heart, there wasn’t that sort of store around here, so being a barista at the local café, The Mind Palace, was his next best option. Valerie said it would be a fresh, new start, that they’d get a tiny house just for them, which they did, and Virgil could maybe actually make some good friends. It was the latter that he doubted would ever happen.

Patton Parker was the first to greet him officially. Virgil landed the job after a phone conversation with the boss, Remy Nicholson, and he still hadn’t seen the man’s face despite already working there for about a week now. According to Patton, though, that was usual. Remy wasn’t usually present around the café, and it was honestly better that way. Apparently, the man wasn’t the most selfless person in the world, and his sleep deprivation didn’t exactly make him tolerable at most times. That was a side to him Virgil would rather not see—that is, if he even ever saw the man at all. 

But now, this Patton guy almost seemed like he was trying to destroy Virgil’s promise to himself that he wouldn’t make any friends. On the first day of meeting Virgil he called him “kiddo,” despite only being about three years older than him. Not to mention he actually treated him like a normal person and not like a creepy, emo teen wearing too much eyeshadow—which, he was, admittedly, but still. It was a nice change, and Virgil usually avoided people as eccentric as Patton, but for now he made an exception. The zealous energy was somewhat charming in a dad-like way; not that Virgil would ever know what typical father’s attitudes were supposed to be like, but he figured Patton’s was as close as it got.

That particular day, right before Virgil would attend his first day at the new school, it was raining cats and dogs. That was the expression Patton used, at least. Business was slow anyways, being an ugly Sunday night, and he honestly hadn’t expected any more customers until three males burst in through the doors. 

Patton and Virgil’s heads snapped up and watched as the unexpected customers strolled along to the counter. Both of their faces shifted, but for different reasons. 

“Logan! Hi!” Patton exclaimed, and the one on the far right looked up at him with a smile. 

“Hello, love,” Logan said, reaching over to Patton and planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s nose. Logan Crofter was a nice, handsome man and a wonderful boyfriend for Patton, but he wasn’t the reason for Virgil’s expression becoming grim—well, grimmer than usual. It was the boy that was standing on the far left of the group, the one who was staring at him with a malevolent spark in his eyes.

“Virgil,” the boy greeted, smiling wickedly. 

“Deceit,” Virgil responded with just as much hatred in his voice, crossing his arms and scowling even more than before. Shit. Virgil had completely forgotten that Denis had moved to this town right after their fight in second grade. What dumb luck. What dumb, fucking luck. 

Denis was honestly the biggest jerk Virgil had ever known, besides Anthony. Back when the mass-murder happened and Virgil started living with his aunt and taking his medicine for his anxiety-slash-depression, his best and only friend was Denis Cire. The two were very close, both being the scum of the school, even if they were only eight-year-olds, and were all each other had. The kid that read dark poetry everyday and the kid who had a pet snake—which he claimed was his soulmate; it wasn’t exactly an unlikely friendship. 

Virgil, however, soon realized how much of a bad friend Denis really was. Their friendship started out okay, and then Virgil would start catching Denis in lies, so much so that he even began to teasingly call him Deceit. Though, Virgil mostly ignored it up until the point Denis made the biggest manipulation towards Virgil in their shared history: he told him the principal wanted to see him on account of his dad’s murdering rampage to see if Virgil was a murderer too.

Virgil was terrified at this, knowing Denis was the only one he told about his father. Not even the teachers knew about it, and to hear the principal had somehow found out shook him to his queasy core. Needless to say, Virgil was very upset, and he began crying his way to the principal’s office and started yelling at him about how he was most definitely not a murderer like his dad. Perhaps he threw in a curse word or two, because he was suspended for awhile, and Denis never talked to him again until he moved not too long after. 

And now, Denis- no, Deceit is here and Virgil knows it’s him, despite the fact that all those things had happened to him years ago. Virgil would recognize those eyes anywhere; Deceit had heterochromia, a condition that left his right iris a dark brown color and the other a sharp green. And the way he looked at Virgil, as if he was superior to him in every little way, made Virgil’s skin crawl. Oh, it was Deceit alright. 

“I see you’re still as emo as ever,” Deceit hissed, and Virgil scoffed. He expected his usual anxiety to take over him, but instead, the sight of his ex-friend caused a surge of anger to shake through him. 

“I see you’re still as two-faced as ever. Oh, by the way, how’s your pet snake doing?  
Darn, what’s his name? I forgot it now...it was something like... Crack, maybe?” 

“Jack,” Deceit snapped. 

“Oh my bad. How’s your snake Jackass doing, again?” 

Virgil heard Logan snicker, but that was when the guy who had been standing in the middle of Logan and Deceit stepped in and pushed Deceit away from Virgil. 

“Okay, okay. Denis, that’s enough out of you,” he said, then turned to Virgil with a wide, arrogant smirk, hazel eyes shining with a gleam of mischievousness. Virgil frowned, looking over his perfectly combed hair and flawless complexion. 

He automatically hated this guy, and not just because he was apparently friends with Deceit. His perfect posture, his neat, and undoubtedly expensive clothes, his stupid, cocky grin that still sat on his tan face; all sure signs that this was the type of guy that thought—no, knew—he was better than everyone else. The type that pushed Virgil into lockers in the hallways of middle school while guffawing as him and his equally stupid, popular buddies ran away, giving each other high fives. The guy—Mr. Popularity, Virgil internally nicknamed him—frowned back.

“I’ll have a vanilla latte, Hot Topic, and Denis here will just have a black coffee,” Mr. Popularity said, voice loud and booming. Virgil shivered, but didn’t move. He just stared at the man, feeling pure hatred boil up inside him for a person he barely even knew. 

“Um, did you hear my order? Or are you deaf from blasting M.C.R through your ears twenty-four-seven?” Mr. Popularity growled, sounding frankly pissed. Another flame ignited inside of Virgil, but he still remained silent and glaring. He didn’t really feel like getting fired in the first week of his new job for cursing out a customer.

“Look, I know I’ve never seen you here before, and I don’t know who you think you are, but the service me and my friends-“ He glanced towards Logan and Patton who were giggling together. “-me and Denis are getting isn’t exactly appropriate. Either get us our order now or I’m afraid I’ll have to report you to your boss.” 

Virgil was going to lose it. First of all it was “Denis and I.” Proper grammar, Jesus Christ. And he was the one acting inappropriate here? Him?! That bastard Denis was the one who decided to walk in here with that airhead friend of his and Logan! Virgil would’ve been fine if he never saw him again, he would have been fine if he never saw anyone ever again, he would have been fine if he’d just had died with his mom on that day nine years ago. 

Virgil’s head ached as it latched onto a downward spiral of thoughts, and he just stood there gritting his teeth while his hands twitched uncomfortably, staring at Mr. Popularity. Then Patton entered the scene, laughing dismissively with a twinge of nervousness. 

“Alrighty, kiddos, let’s stop this right here. Virgil, I appreciate you trying to handle these three fine gentlemen, but I think I’ll take it from here. Roman, there’s no need to call Remy and you know it. Virgil’s just been having an off-day today. We’ve all had those, huh? Besides, the kiddo’s new around here. Cut him some slack, Ro,” Patton said, then winked as Mr. Popularity—Roman, now, Virgil supposed—looked at Logan skeptically. Logan looked back at him and nodded, and Roman sighed.

“Fi-ine,” he grumbled, slamming his money on the counter for his and Deceit’s order, and Patton beamed. 

“Thanks, kiddo! See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Virgil ignored Roman’s response in favor of turning to Logan. 

“What about you, Lo?” Virgil asked, finally able to breathe normally again it seemed.

“Just the usual. Patt can handle it, Virge,” Logan said coolly. 

Patton turned to make the three’s orders and during this time Roman made the “I’m watching you” gesture towards Virgil, pointing to both his eyes and then at him with the same two fingers. Virgil stuck his tongue at him but did nothing else as Patton handed Logan, Roman, and Deceit their coffee. The three left soon after.

The Mind Palace was silent for a moment, then Patton started whistling a happy tune and got back to scrubbing the counter. 

“You could’ve let me at him, you know,” Virgil said absently, picking at his nail polish with a mix of pent-up anger and forced casualness. “I just love offending stuck-up assholes like him.” Patton grinned a bit, then shook his head.

“Aw kiddo, Roman Prince is not that bad. Just... a tiny bit egotistical, I suppose.”

Virgil scoffed. He could’ve told him that. “How do you know him anyways?” What he meant was how such a nice guy got associated with such a stereotypical, stuck-up prick, but by the way Patt was looking at him he should probably save the insults for another time.

“Through Logan. We went to high school together here, you know. Lo and I go to college together not too far from here. And he works at the same theatre as him, The Dreamscape Theatre, but Lo is part of the technical crew. Roman Prince is an actor. He really is a nifty guy once you get to know him. Nicest kiddo I know around here... besides you, of course.”

“Sure,” Virgil huffed, and soon the time hit eight-o-clock and he needed to head out. He waved a goodbye to Patton, popped his earbuds into his ears, and then went out into the heavily pouring rain. 

The streets were coated in giant, slippery puddles that Virgil had the urge to stomp around in, but he just got new black sneakers and he didn’t feel like messing them up already. Instead, he turned up the volume of “Welcome To The Black Parade” a little louder, trying to not think about what Roman had said earlier about him and his music taste. 

In full honesty, Virgil was as emo as they came. If Roman was the obnoxious jock from all those chick flick movies Aunt Valerie watched at four in the morning in Virgil’s eyes then Virgil was the creepy goth boy that set things on fire for fun in Roman’s eyes. After all, his hair was the only part of him that wasn’t black or white since it was dyed a punk, magenta-purple color, his bangs hanging down and over his face. He would have gotten piercings had it not been for his fear of people jamming needles into his ears, tongue, or nose. 

So, he stuck with his dark-colored outfits consisting of hoodies hiding his skinny frame, baggy t-shirts, and ripped skinny jeans. A miserable scowl was always pasted on his face, which was currently caked in white foundation, dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, and black lipstick, and his fingernails were painted black, just like always.

Had it not been for his noticeably short height--his hunching was partially responsible for that--or his light occurrences of freckles, he’d look like a monster straight out of a horror movie. But, unfortunately, Virgil Hernandez was smaller than everyone his age, girls included, and his face was speckled with tiny, not-menacing freckles under his eyes and around his forehead and chin, which went along with his heavy acne.

Virgil clucked his tongue as he accidentally stepped in a little mud before his new house came into view. He was still not used to the small porch, but somehow managed to get to the doorway with minimal stumbles. There, right in front of the welcome mat he had begged Val not to buy, sat his cat, Dusk, waiting for him. She was a thin, gray little thing, and truthfully his only companion in the whole universe besides Aunt Valerie. He picked her up, cradling her and praying she wouldn’t scratch at him, and started taking her inside. 

“Hi, Dusk. How was your day? Mine was hell. I met a new preppy jerk named Roman who’s best friends with Denis—I know, the Denis Cire. What a couple of bastards. I’ll tell you all about it later, but first I gotta take my meds,” he said, and the door slammed shut behind him. 

-

Roman ruffled his brown-almost-red hair and huffed a little between his teeth. He stood in the entryway of the Choir classroom, staring out at the herd of seniors who were minding their own business, chatting and laughing and waiting for the bell to ring and signal the beginning of class. But there was only one teenager that he was staring at, the one that was sitting in his seat, sipping from an extra large coffee cup casually. And the worst part was, Roman recognized him. 

The enraged boy stomped up to the punk teen, kicked his leg, and watched as the other looked up at him in shock. His expression immediately melted into an equally angry one, matching Roman’s, and he took another sip of his coffee. 

“What are you doing in my seat, Virgin?” 

“It’s Virgil. And I already asked the teacher if there’s assigned seating. I can sit wherever I want, Princey.” Roman made an offended noise in the back of his throat, causing Virgil to snicker. 

“B-but! But you’re not even- what are you doing in Advanced Choir?!” Roman squeaked out, utterly confused on how such a punk like Virgil could ever be interested in the art of music. 

“Well, I need to have someway to sing all those M.C.R songs, don’t I?” Virgil retorted, tapping his forehead with a smirk. 

Never in Roman’s life had he had more of an urge to wrap his fingers around someone’s neck, not even when his little sister stole his makeup kit and used up the rest of his expensive eyeliner, which he still has not replenished. He guessed he must have actually started making this action when the teacher, Mrs. Gomez, snapped at him and told him to get in a seat. 

“But, Virgil was the one who-!“ Roman started to complain.

“Virgil is our new student,” Mrs. Gomez cut him off. “I told him he could sit where he wanted and I expect you to respect his choice in seating.” Roman started grumbling under his breath, fuming as he dropped his backpack in the only empty chair left which happened to be right next to Virgil’s, and continued to scowl at him. Virgil simply looked back at him and silently sipped his coffee with a smile. What a bitch.

Mrs. Gomez began calling roll, going through a few students’ names and then, “Virgil Hernandez?” 

“Here,” Virgil said half-heartedly. Roman glared his way although he wasn’t paying attention, instead watching as the Choir teacher lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of his name.

“Oh! How could I forget? Everyone, this is our new student, Virgil! We are so lucky to have him here in this class, let me tell you. He’s been an award-winning tenor since he was a freshman and is a talented guitar player! He’s also a wonderfully gifted songwriter, so I’ve heard. Isn’t that right, Virgil?” Roman watched as Virgil blushed at the compliment and rubbed the back of his neck with a laugh. 

“T-thanks. And yeah I like writing songs. They’re... fun.” Later, Virgil would mentally slap himself for using such a word to describe his passion, but for now he just wanted the attention off of him as soon as possible. 

Mrs. Gomez continued with a beaming smile, her happy-go-lucky self seeming to have returned back to her after Roman’s little scolding. Her brown bob shook with every name she called.

“Roman Prince?” she said. 

“Present.” Roman raises his hand, and before she could go on, added, “And might I say you are looking especially lovely today. And-“ Roman sniffed the air slightly. “-is that pomegranate I smell?” 

“Oh, thank you, Roman. Always such a flirt,” Mrs. Gomez said with a giggle. “And yes, it is pomegranate. I’ve been using a new shampoo.” 

“Well it is doing wonders to your hair and your ravishing scent, I must say.”

Virgil watched the display and how Roman threw a shit-eating smile his way. But the emo teen just rolled his eyes. Did everything have to be a competition nowadays? It’s not like Virgil was trying to win over the teacher, he’d just met her. He couldn’t help it if music was the only thing he was remotely good at, and if Roman has a problem with how good he was at it, that was fine with him. 

What happened after roll call, however, was something Roman was not fine with. Mrs. Gomez sat at her piano, playing a few scales and getting the class started with some warm-ups. Roman couldn’t help listening to Mr. Musical Expert beside him, who was not only singing the notes perfectly, but to a point where his voice was frighteningly beautiful. Roman twitched. How was it that this grumpy barista was better than him at his own game? It was unfair, it was preposterous, it was-

Roman’s train of thought stopped when he suddenly got an idea. A smile was lit upon his face and he listened as Mrs. Gomez started a new chord. That’s when Roman stood up and belted out a riff, extending off of the scale she had been playing with his eyes closed and a hand pressed to his chest. The class went into light applause and Roman bowed and gave Virgil a cocky grin at this. But he didn’t expect what happened next, in full honesty.

Virgil shot up out of his chair, determination in his face as he sang the same riff, but longer and more powerfully. The whole class was awed by this, including Virgil himself, and even Mrs. Gomez stopped to watch the exchange with curious eyes. Roman has stiffened, but now he shot back, going higher up the scale, even standing on his tiptoes for full effect. 

But perhaps challenging Virgil was not the best thing to do, because the notes he sang next was perhaps the most beautiful melody that had ever blessed mankind’s ears. It started off low boarding on bass notes, and then slowly became higher as he got louder, as if he were pounding the notes midair with his voice, then drifted down into a small, soothing whistle. 

The whole class stared at the new student in complete silence, and then loud, humongous cheers erupted out of everyone. People, random people, were clamping Virgil’s back and tousling his hair and praising him as if he were a God, and Roman just... watched. 

Now it was Virgil’s turn to look at him smugly, his black lips curling into a smile. Gosh, it’s been a while since they’ve done that. The only thing that interrupted the moment was Mrs. Gomez’ cheerful voice reigning the class back in. 

“Okay, okay, settle down everyone! Roman, Virgil, that was very excellent you two. But let’s try and save the riff competitions for after class,” she instructed, then turned back to her piano with a hum. “Of course, the two of you are welcome to perform duets whenever you like. You’d make a fantastic pair, if you asked me, boys.” 

Virgil nearly choked on his coffee and Roman made a gagging sound of disapproval. But Mrs. Gomez didn’t notice as she went back to playing more scales and the two were too horrified by her comment to look at one another. 

Because as much as they hated to admit it, they did actually sound somewhat nice together.


	2. Disney, Discounts, and Discussions of Death

Everyday for the next three weeks, Roman came to The Mind Palace, ordered a vanilla latte, and made a point to get into some sort of argument with Virgil. Usually it was about how his latte was too cold or the fact that Virgil would put the words ‘Stuck-Up Bastard’ on his cup where his name was supposed to go, but oddly enough, he never told on him to Remy like he so kindly threatened to do during their first meeting. 

So, they never stopped, and today Virgil wasn’t expecting anything less as he was wiping down counters with Patton’s help. It was a slow Thursday morning, and no one was inside the café besides the two employees. It was peaceful and relaxing to just listen to the sound of classical music sweeping around them in the tiny building. Just then, the bell chimed, interrupting the café’s calming atmosphere, and Virgil’s anxiety automatically flipped on inside of him, making his stomach suddenly twist.

He brushed his purple hair out of his eyes to look up at Roman, who handed him a handful of dollar bills without a word. He was uncharacteristically quiet this morning, but Virgil didn’t complain about the silence as he turned to make Roman’s usual order. Normally, after that, Roman would thank him through gritted teeth and leave, but today the boy actually stuck around, seating himself at one of the tall tables near the counter. He took an expensive-looking laptop out of his messenger bag before setting it in front of him, still weirdly silent. 

Virgil watched, slightly intrigued as Roman powered it on, sipping from his beverage before he began typing away. Virgil went back to his cleaning, brows scrunched together as he frowned.

“You should go talk to him, Virge,” Patton said softly, startling Virgil. 

“What? Are you crazy?! Why?” Virgil hissed back, eyes flicking between his friend—yes, friend—and Roman.

“I’ve been talking to Logan,” Patton explained as gently as he could, “and we think the two of you kiddos would be really neat friends if you’d just make up already.” 

“Never,” Virgil growled quietly. “He’s an asshole, he doesn’t understand that he can’t always be the best at everything, and- oh. Did I mention he was an asshole?” 

Patton sighed, looking down at the ground sadly. “Yeah. Many times, V.”

“Good, because he is,” Virgil spat, sticking his tongue out at Roman who was too busy typing whatever dumb shit he was working on into his computer to notice. 

“And how do you know that? You know, just because someone looks to be one thing, they can always be another. I mean, if I just judged you solely on your looks, I wouldn’t have the caring, but still edgy, friend I have now!” Patton exclaimed. “And then there’s me and Logan! How would we have ever gotten to fall in love with each other if we looked at each other and thought, ‘Now that’s one nerdy fellow. I’ll never like him,’ or, ‘Whoa. That guy looks like a real idiot. Wouldn’t want to associate myself with that doofus.’ Just give him a chance, Virgil, that’s all I’m asking of you. Opposites attract.” 

Virgil tried not to laugh at Patton’s poor impersonation of his boyfriend. “Okay, one, they do not. You and Logan are hardly opposites and you know it. Heck, I’m pretty sure you even wear the same frames,” Virgil responded, quickly regaining spite in his voice. “And, two, you’re talking about this in a romantic sense. Gross.” 

Patton shrugged. “Virgil, I swear if you go up to him and attempt civil conversation and it doesn’t work out, I will buy you a pizza tomorrow night and let you play all the emo music you want over the speakers for the next three days.” 

Virgil’s eyes immediately lit up at the suggestion. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Patton giggled.

Virgil shoved his sleeves up to his elbows, then rolled them down just as fast when he felt the chilly air hit his exposed skin. “Okay, Patton. Game on. Game fucking on.” Patton smiled, and he knew he had Virgil right where he wanted him.

Virgil exited the counter space, took in a shaky breath, and then made his way to Roman’s table. He slid into the chair across from him, trying his best not to let his anxiety get to him, watching as the boy didn’t even glance his way, instead taking a long sip from his latte and then asking in a particularly dry voice, “What do you want, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance?” 

Virgil huffed. His face looked even more punchable up close, turns out. “Believe me, if it were up to me I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” He waited for Roman to ask for an explanation, but he didn’t, instead focusing on whatever he was typing up with intense eyes. Virgil swallowed. 

Minutes passed and Virgil did nothing but sigh. He thought about that promise, and if he just got this over with, he’ll have M.C.R blasting out of these speakers in no time. It might even drive Roman away. Virgil smiled to himself at the thought, and he cleared his throat. 

“So... what’re you doing?” It was a generic question, sure, but Virgil was never one for conversation. 

Roman’s hazel eyes finally darted up at him, cocking an eyebrow but responding anyways, very slowly. “Why do you want to know?”

Okay, Virgil was already so done with this guy. He huffed, but when he started getting up to leave, he saw Patton give him an enthusiastic thumbs-up with a glowing smile to match. Virgil frowned back, but when he turned around, the image of his friend remained in his mind. This wasn’t about the bet anymore, it was about Patton. Do it for Patton, do it for Patton, do it for Patton. Virgil chanted this in his head as he looked back up at Roman, who had gotten back to work on his laptop. 

“Roman,” Virgil said, and Roman eyes flicked up to him with mild interest. Virgil’s voice was low, but calm. He took even breaths in hopes of controlling his temper while he tried to word his sentences as politely as he could manage. “Look, I know you hate me, and I’m not sugarcoating anything when I say I hate you too-”

“Thanks,” Roman snapped with a sneer.

“-but you would be doing me a huge favor by at least trying to act friendly to me.” Virgil then nudged his head in Patton’s direction, and Roman looked that way with a frown of realization.

“Ah.” He paused, considering it, and then came to a decision, shaking his head and honestly looking like he hated himself for the decision he came to. When he talked again his voice was hushed, knowing that Patton was probably listening to every word they said. “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll try to talk with you. But only for Patton.”

“For Patton,” Virgil agreed. 

“So,” Roman said, his voice having returned back to its usual loud volume that nearly made Virgil’s ears bleed. At least he was good actor, so maybe that would help their conversation seem genuine for Patton. “What did you ask me?”

“Uh... I asked ‘what’re you doing?’” 

“Oh, it’s just a little something for this theatre production I’m apart of.” Roman gave Virgil a small smile, and Virgil had to admit it was pretty good for a fake one, matched with fluttering eyelashes and a warm glow in his cheeks. He was plenty convincing, he’d give him that. “You may have heard of it from by buddy Logan...?” 

“The super depressing one with the holiday-sounding name? What was it called again-? ‘Winter Wonderland’?” Virgil guessed, biting absently at his thumbnail, the polish there slowly peeling away. He tried to act casual a he snuck a look at Patton, who was beaming proudly. Virgil wanted to die and for more than one reason. In full honesty, this conversation was so dry the Sahara desert would be jealous of it. Virgil would have actually preferred it if the two started arguing again rather than continuing this fruitless banter.

“It is not depressing,” Roman insisted, shutting off his laptop and pushing it closed. His hair flopped on top of his head with frustration as his expression became serious. “It’s an enticing love story about a town that gets caught in a never-ending snowstorm, and how two lovers must push through the miserable cold that resembles the death of their dwindling hope and help the ones they love in order to conquer the snow!” 

Roman smiled wistfully at his explanation, but Virgil just scoffed. “Yeah, but then they both die in the end. Everyone dies,” he pointed out. Roman scowled at the reminder, then shook his head. 

“Well, nature over human mind, I suppose,” Roman said, drinking his beverage thoughtfully. “The point of Winter Wonderland, however, is a lesson we should all learn; make something good out of the things that are bad, which is symbolized by the snow.” 

“And then watch as that goodness kills you and everyone you love,” Virgil added with a snort. Roman rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair impatiently. This response wasn’t exactly new to Virgil when he shot down people’s fantasies, but the way Roman looked up at him a few seconds later shocked him, in a way. His green-brown eyes glossed over with a actual sincere hurt Virgil had never seen before and for the first time he looked actually... human. And not just another monster Virgil aimed to avoid, but a person with actual feelings. Virgil tried to not let the thought sink in. He was a good actor, that was all it was.

“You really don’t like theatre do you? Or anything else for that matter,” Roman observed with a frown, and to his amusement, Virgil actually looked sort of offended at the question.

“I like theatre,” Virgil answered quickly, then shrugged. This conversation was beginning to turn more personal than for show, but he couldn’t stop now. “I just... like to see the darker morals that can be learned from stories. Everyone’s so busy trying to take away brighter, more naive meanings, so somebody has to get the other side of it, y’know?” He paused, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Roman in favor of staring outside the window, the outside sky colored a cool, but grim gray. 

He remembered his mom’s passion from theatre, but her true love was in art. Even to this point, Virgil firmly believed a good set of acrylics and a canvas was her soulmate. Still, that didn’t stop her from blasting Broadway soundtracks as she painted and Virgil watched, thumb in his mouth. Unlike his mom, Virgil was a cruddy drawer and painter and he was simply terrible at everything else when it came to moving his hand to make pictures. He was always jealous of her in that aspect, but at least he could make a decent lunch for himself.

“And I would do theatre,” Virgil said, suddenly snapping back to reality, “in all honesty, but I just never got into it. Too much loud noise, too much people staring at you, too much anxiety...” Virgil’s voice faded out, and he watched Roman’s expression go from concerned to bright. 

“Ah, but that’s what I love about it!” Roman spoke, and for a second, Virgil was almost taken back by how much the other sounded like his Aunt Valerie; passionate and all too optimistic. “The lights! The sound! Oh, can’t you imagine it?! Broadway! Auditioning not for mere characters or for roles, but for storytellers! Storytellers that show the pain, the joy, and the feeling that life is all about!” He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his fist for dramatic effect, quiet for just a moment. Then his eyes popped open, nearly frightening Virgil, and he looked at the boy with a large smile.

“How will Juliet and Romeo ever be able to be together? How will Veronica save her school from her psychotic boyfriend? How will our heroes ever endure their town’s crazy snowstorm?! These are the questions we answer through shows, and from those, lessons can be learned by both the characters and the audience! And you’re right, not all of those morals are all sunshines and rainbows... but I like to think that’s what they’re trying to help us work for, the thing that everyone wants; a happy ending.” 

“Not me,” Virgil grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?” Roman asked, brows furrowed, sure he hadn’t heard that right. 

“I don’t want a happy ending,” Virgil repeated, louder this time, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I mean, I guess I do, we all do, like you said. You’d have to be stupid not to. But life doesn’t have happy endings. None of those plays you just referenced have any-“ 

“-but they do!” Roman argued. “Juliet got to be with her lover through death! Veronica discovered her real happy ending was with her friends, new and old! And at the end of Winter Wonderland, the snow ultimately buries the whole town, sure, but the last thing the audience sees is a small boy, playing in that snow, which isn’t that bad of an ending if you look at it symbolically.” 

“Symbolically or not, that little kid is playing in the ruins of a bunch of dead villagers, Roman.” Roman pouted. “And, besides, those are just plays, two of which are meant to be tragedies,” Virgil pointed out. “I don’t care how well you play the characters, it’s all fantasy. In reality, we’re all doomed for the worst of endings.” 

“Yeah, but who likes living in reality?” Roman’s voice became serious yet frustrated like a pouty kid throwing a tantrum all at the same time.

“No one,” Virgil said with a small shudder. He spent a lot of his free time having existential crisis or just plainly analyzing life, and not unlike a scientist telling someone their findings they have yet to patent, he felt uncomfortable saying his conclusions out loud. “Not even me. But that’s what we’re living in, so you might as well get used to it.” 

“And what about believing in your dreams?”

Virgil took a long breath through his nose, picking at his lip as he processed the question, considering everything Roman has said to him during their talk so far. “Well... I’ll be honest with you, Roman. You’re not... the total airhead I thought you were when I first met you.” It wounded Virgil to say that, but it was true. After all, not everyone can just read a Shakespearean play and understand it, let alone enjoy it. “You’ve possibly actually got brains inside that big head of yours, you’ve got a somewhat deep mind, so I don’t think I’m wrong in saying you know just as well as I do that dreams can turn into nightmares with just a simple snap of fate’s fingers.”

For the first time since they’d met, Roman was silenced by something Virgil said, staring down at his almost-finished latte with a frown. “Can’t lie about that, Charlie Frown,” Roman sighed eventually, and the sad look that reigned down on his face that Virgil had been aiming to see before their conversation even started is less amusing than Virgil thought it would be. 

“...I don’t think you’re totally stupid anymore, is what I’m saying,” Virgil elaborated. “I mean, you seem to like Shakespeare, so you’re doing better than a lot of other people in my book. Some of us just take a little more to get used to the snow than others...” Roman nods, not even grateful for the reference Virgil made, and they’re both quiet for some time. 

Then Virgil left to get himself a black coffee. When he returned, Roman was looking at him with squinting eyes. 

“Uh... you okay there, Princey?” 

“I’m fine. Just... I’m still confused as to how you got into music. Mrs. Gomez wasn’t wrong, you do have a spectacular voice, and don’t tell anyone I said that, but... how?” Roman looked truly lost and it took all Virgil had not to laugh in his face. 

“Ah, well, don’t start getting jealous there,” Virgil said dismissively. “You’re supposed to be a musical prodigy, right? So you have to be good at dancing, acting, and singing. I’ve only been able to do one of those. You’re still better than me in the other two aspects, I guess.”

“True. I have been in many shows and productions in my time. Acting and dancing are two things I wouldn’t exactly say were hard for me to master,” Roman boasted, and Virgil regretting ever complimenting the guy. 

“Anyways, I guess it started when I was a kid. I was never a genius or anything, I’m still failing Calculus. But I would read really dark poetry ever since... first grade, maybe? Over time, lots of shit happened and I had a lot of emotions, so I began writing my own poems. Those poems became lyrics, and those lyrics became songs after I started learning to play around with guitars and ukuleles,” Virgil spoke, and he felt his eyes gloss over. 

He remembered the days following his mother’s death well; sobbing uncontrollably, running around his room and screaming uselessly, so confused, so scared, and tired. So, so tired. That’s when he started writing songs. And it wasn’t really pretty. He’d thrash around his house, hunting for scrap pieces of paper to pound his harsh words into with messy, black pen. So hard he didn’t even know what he was writing anymore, just that he felt, felt, felt. A few good songs emerged from those few days, and he even played a piece he wrote at the funeral, but just the instrumental of course. The words were too terrible to sing, too emotional and inky, slipping through his fingers and choking out of his mouth but still ringing out from the wordless music perfectly. 

“...Point is, I never had anything going for me except music after that, so it was the only thing I’ve been working at for the past nine years. I never aimed to be better than everyone else, and I’m sorry-not-sorry if I intimidated you,” Virgil finished.

Virgil was surprised at how much he was sharing with this guy he supposedly hated, but instead of getting angry, Roman nodded, taking in every word with interest. It was odd, but also comforting to have someone to spill all this too that wasn’t Aunt Val or Dusk. 

“But you still needed those vocals to scream out M.C.R, right?” Roman asked, but not in a mean way this time, more playfully, his eyes shining. 

“Sure,” Virgil said with a snicker. “But I listen to other bands, you know. Panic! At The Disco, Evanescence, Fall Out Boy, Gorillaz, and Twenty One Pilots just to name a few...” 

“My, my, my, you’re just the full emo package, aren’t you?” Roman cooed. The two laughed, Roman’s laugh being more of a guffaw while Virgil simply chuckled, then a beat of silence.

“...But what about you, Princey? Any reason why you decided to get into theater instead of staying a popular jock for the rest of your life?” Virgil asked mischievously. Roman sneered and shook his head. 

“Well, this may come as a surprise to you, Edge Lord, but I’ve never been one for sports… or art… or anything that isn’t theatre, frankly,” Roman explained, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been in love with the stage for as long as I can remember, and I have Disney to owe for a lot of that. Boys would tease me that those kinds of movies were just for girls, but I saw stronger beauty in them than just the princess. Not that I’d expect you to understand that-“ 

“-I do,” Virgil interrupted. “I’m a fan of Disney myself. My favorite is Nightmare Before Christmas and Black Cauldron—no surprise there—but the newer ones are definitely getting better. I really liked Moana and Brave actually. I’d pick them over Snow White or Sleeping Beauty any day.” 

Roman gasped, horrified. “B-but, those are classics!” he shouted. “The older Disney movies are far better! Sure, they were working with 2-D animation back then, but then how could we have gotten ‘Once Upon A Dream’ or ‘A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes’?! Or- Or the romance?! Moana and Brave barely touched upon true romance, if at all!” 

“Good,” Virgil commented. “What are the older movies teaching kids by having all that romance in it? That girls can’t survive without the love of a man?” 

“Of course not,” Roman scoffed, pulling at his red bomber uncomfortably. “Rather, a life of love and finding your soulmate is beautiful,” Roman defended with a dreamy sigh.

“Even worse,” Virgil returned, trying not to gag. 

“You may not act like it, but deep down I know there’s a great, big dreamer underneath your cold exterior,” Roman said. “We all, at one point in or lives, have dreamed of a great love story. I mean, how could you not, knowing that someone out there was meant-?”

“Shut up,” Virgil growled, almost immediately. He didn’t really feel like touching upon the topic of soulmates. Not now, not ever. He suddenly saw the look on Roman’s face, shocked and slightly hilarious to stare at, and he revised, “Sorry, just... trust me when I say that’s not a comfortable subject for me.”

Roman gave him a skeptical look, then his eyes traced over the clock that hung on the wall beside them. It was getting late, he realized. He figured he had two options at this point; one, leave Virgil now, go to school and act like this conversation never happened and they could go back to hating each other like he originally planned... Or he could continue talking to this boy, because to be honest, he wasn’t as bad to chat with as Roman had formally thought since he had some interest in theater in Disney even if his views were a bit… unique. Roman knew the latter was the better one of the two choices, but he didn’t have time to continue the conversation, not when they had school in about half an hour. 

“Okay, look, school is going to start soon so we better start heading out, but...” Roman’s voice drifted out, and he took a pen out of his messenger bag. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist, who nearly had a panic attack at the action, and then scrawled out a number on his hand. “Text me. I know we didn't start off on the right foot, but we’re gonna marathon all of the Disney movies until you finally agree the classics are better.” 

Virgil frowned. He’d never been invited to do anything with anyone before, nor has he ever gotten someone’s number after having just one decent conversation with them. He opened his mouth to decline, maybe even with a few harsh words thrown into the mix for writing on his arm without permission, but then he looked at Roman’s eyes. 

His hazel pupils were burning with competitiveness, and that’s what ultimately convinced Virgil. It was just for the competition, he promised himself. Roman just wanted to prove himself right, and by agreeing Virgil could deprive him of that satisfaction. Yeah. Sure. 

“Or until you agree that the newer ones are clearly superior,” Virgil finally said with a smirk, both of the boys scooting out of their chairs and standing up. 

“It’s a deal,” Roman declared, and the two shook hands firmly. He started to leave, but Virgil caught his arm. Quizzically, Roman watched as Virgil fished around his pocket, then handled him a couple of wadded dollar bills. 

“Wha-“

“Discount,” Virgil muttered. “On your latte. Take it as a peace offering. Congrats, I don’t exactly hate you anymore. As much, at least.”

“Thanks,” Roman said dryly, but offered Vigil a light smile anyways. They said their goodbyes, and Virgil went back to behind the counter again with Patton.

“How’d it go?” Patton said with a cheery smile. 

“You ask that as if you weren’t eavesdropping the entire time,” Virgil shot back, but with a smirk nonetheless. 

Patron giggles, guilty, then goes on, “Well, what can I say kiddo? I didn’t really believe it before—I was trying to expand your social boundaries and all—but you two would make really good friends. Who knew people could bond over how they view their childhood movies?”

“I still watch Disney,” Virgil snapped whilst packing his things for school. “It’s not just a childhood thing.”

Patton laughed. “Virge, we should go to Roman’s show. Winter Wonderland, right? He plays the lead, you know, and it would be nice to support him and Lo.”

Virgil almost did a double-take. “He’s the lead?!” he screeched, and Patton nods. “No wonder he’s so arrogant about it. I shouldn’t have given him that two-dollar discount.” 

“You did though, and I’m proud of you for that. Even got his number I see,” Patton noted, winking as he looked down at the writing on the younger male’s arm. 

“Shut up,” Virgil said half-jokingly. 

“I’ll order your pizza tomorrow night,” Patton muttered some amount of seconds later. “And you can play any songs you want all day long tomorrow.” 

Virgil looked up at his new friend with wide, unbelieving eyes. “Really?” he whispered. “But I lost the bet.”

“Remy isn’t here to stop you, and you deserve a reward.”

Virgil grinned, then grabbed his backpack and told him he was heading off for school. He threw on his beanie, gave one last glance at the number written against his skin, and stepped out the front door. 

Patton smiled to himself, watching his friend go while he hummed some sweet song. It gave him hope, he realized as he got back to work, even if he would never tell Virgil that. A certain hope that if maybe two people so different could possibly be friends, then maybe the world wasn’t that hateful after all.

-

Virgil took another swig of soda, washing away another swallow of the pizza ordered for him as he sat crossed-legged in a plush, red chair, eyes carefully watching the television screen in front of him. His legs twitched nervously, and no matter how much he tried to concentrate on the movie currently displayed on the screen, Sleeping Beauty, his heart still skipped around nervously in his chest. He had nothing to be afraid about; Roman sat on the couch next to the chair, eating the pizza so sloppily he was on the border of looking more like a cow than a human being, a hum of a regular Friday night calmly hanging in the air, and Virgil was perfectly safe in that small armchair. But, it was simply the fact that he was sitting in the middle of Roman freaking Prince’s apartment that was causing him to be so anxious... or, at least, more anxious than usual.

Roman wasn’t a stranger, not entirely, and he wasn’t a bad guy. Probably. He was too much of a dork to be, Virgil told himself. So why was he so nervous being in a living space that wasn’t his own? Oh yeah, because he had never been to a living space other than his own. Mind you, he hadn’t had any friends in his entire life besides Deceit until now with Patton and all, but Virgil considered Roman to be at an equal level of friendship that Logan Crofter sat at; acquaintances and nothing more or less.

He forced his eyes to train on the scene of the movie laying out before him; Aurora was singing and dancing with Prince Philip. Virgil had to strain himself in order to not make a gagging sound as he watched Roman’s eyes brighten up at the romantic song they were singing, “Once Upon A Dream.” He started out by humming it, then slowly began singing it wholeheartedly, and Virgil only buried himself further into his chair and grumbled. 

Virgil loved Disney, he truly did. There was something truly magnificent in the way the stories were told, and the music was admittedly wonderful, and he absolutely adored finding the darker meanings of all the films. But he still never got used to the soulmate scenes. It was the reason why Brave was one of his favorites—Merida was able to stand up against her mother that was trying to force her into a relationship, soulmate or not, and be someone that she wasn’t. That, and Virgil also always admired Merida’s... well, bravery. 

But he didn’t dare say anything to Roman. He was too busy trying to not make himself more uncomfortable in the middle of an apartment that wasn’t his and, besides, Virgil liked looking at the utter joy on Roman’s face as he watched the scene and sang along to it, though he wouldn’t admit that, not even to himself. Virgil still couldn’t consider the two of them friends yet, no, not at all. It took him so long to even get used to Patton, and Virgil had actually enjoyed his company from the beginning.

But they had definitely texted all through last night, planning out their movie marathon—which at this point, was beginning to feel less and less like a competition and more of a friendly hangout, Virgil hated to admit—and pausing every now and then to make sure the other wasn’t falling asleep. Neither did, however, until they typed out their goodbyes. Virgil was surprised to hear how little sleep Roman actually got on a daily basis when he explained to him why he didn’t really mind talking at three in the morning. Admittedly, Virgil usually stayed up scrolling through his phone and humming along to whatever song was blasting through his earbuds, where as, according to Roman, the other stayed up hunched over a desk, scribbling down idea after idea for whatever current project he was working on. 

The two of them and Virgil’s boss should really see some kind of therapist about their sleep deprivation, Virgil couldn’t help but notice. Virgil had never even met Remy Nicholson until that same day Roman had their first civil conversation when he came over for a visit that evening. Patton was right; the man absolutely needed more sleep at night. Apparently, Remy was some kind of ex-hippie, as Patton explained along with the other workers at The Mind Palace, Talyn and Joan. 

He used to be quite the anti-war and gun control enthusiast, but he eventually found a peaceful life as a coffee shop worker. His hippie-like lifestyle was mostly out of his system at his point, but politics and other national issues still stressed him out. His way of coping with that was staying up all night, going to one a.m concerts and chugging down ice tea, and then proceeding to nap all day in his apartment, which was why he was never around.

When Remy came in that day to check up on The Mind Palace, Virgil and Patton were working their shifts as Talyn and Joan were playing around in the back, and they watched as their boss poured himself a cup of ice tea and then promptly fell asleep on top of the counter. Patton laughed it off, saying how at this point him and Talyn were the ones running the place, but Remy always managed to pay the bills and have their checks ready by payday, somehow, and no one ever questioned it. Then, after an hour or two, Remy woke up, and as if he was in a drunken state, stumbled out of the shop with a salute before he shoved his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.

Virgil shook his head at the memory, attempting once more to concentrate on the movie, seeing now they arrived at the scene in which Flora and Merryweather were fighting over what color to make Aurora’s dress. Roman laughed from somewhere on the couch, and Virgil shifted his head slightly to look at the boy.

“What’s so funny?” Virgil said with a smirk, finishing the rest of his soda with one final slurp. 

“Nothing. I just- ah, Virgil,” Roman muttered, turning his own head to look at the other boy. He was biting his lower lip and his eyes were sparkling slightly, but they weren’t ablaze with competition like Virgil had seen at The Mind Palace. They were shining with sincerity. How did they always manage to shine? Virgil would never understand the weird but enchanting mixture of greens and browns and their ability to glow so clearly under any and every lighting imaginable.

“This scene... it kind of reminds me of me and you, you know?” Roman sighed. The way he spoke made it seem like they’d known each other for years despite just coming to terms the day before. It irked Virgil, but made him feel oddly secure at the same time.

Virgil snuck a glance at the screen, watching as the dress was starting to be splashed with both hues of blue and pink in the mess of the magical fight between the two fairies. “Yeah... I guess so.”

Roman squinted as he watched the TV, studying it closely as if he hadn’t watched the movie billions of times before. “I mean, I don’t know if you mind me saying, but we’re not exactly friends. But we’re no longer enemies, either,” Roman murmured, then paused to look at Virgil again like he was struggling to decipher the role the emo boy played in his life. “You’re still emo, and annoying, and to be honest I don’t know why I found any interest in being nice to you-“

“Wow,” Virgil grumbled sarcastically.

“-but I have to say... you’re always finding new ways to surprise me.” Roman said this like it caused him physical pain, cringing slightly and Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle internally at the thought. “You have quite a singing talent after all, and your dark but unique view on Disney movies is intriguing, and your strange forwardness... And, as it turns out, you aren’t just another show-off genius looking for attention; you’ve actually got a good heart—somewhat—and genuine motives. I have to respect that, to some degree. And I could always use a little challenge, I suppose.”

Virgil huffed but smiled nonetheless. “And you’re not just another arrogant asshole that’s only good at getting a brown, leather ball from one end of a stupid field to another or attracting blonde chicks only to dump them one week later. So... looks like we’re both fighting stereotypes, Princey.” Roman snorted at this, then shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I guess it helps that I’m gay,” he said without hesitation, his voice steady and mellow as if giving away his sexual orientation was no big deal.

Virgil flinched. No one had ever outed themselves to him before, at least not officially. It was a kind of an understood thing with Patton after he saw him kiss Logan not too long after he met him. He didn’t know how to respond, and letting pure instinct take over, he used the eye for an eye method. “Oh. Cool. I- I am too,” Virgil’s voice shook at the confession. “Gay, I mean.” Then he wanted to slap himself.

He couldn’t believe he was coming out to a guy he barely started to tolerate, especially a guy such as Roman Prince, but here he was, body shivering nervously as Roman nodded slowly, eyes already back on the T.V. How could he be so casual about this? Virgil just told him one of his biggest secrets... but to be honest, he had said it first. Roman was gay. A bit unexpected, but not a bad thing in the slightest. It was that confidence he had when admitting it that had inspired Virgil, the emo boy reasoned. Yeah. That was it.

So Virgil did his best to act as uncaring about the reveal as Roman, looking at the screen and then saying in a dry voice, “The dress honestly is better looking in blue, though.”

“Of course you would say that,” Roman said with a giggle. 

A beat of silence.

Then Roman shifted, the couch creaking underneath his weight, and he said, “Hey, Virgil? You know you can come sit down over here on the couch.”

Virgil froze, his chewing slowing down and he gulped down the chunk of pizza in his mouth with one big swallow. His eyes drifted over to where Roman sat, his pizza done and plate tossed on the coffee table, sprawled out across the surface. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It was just a suggestion,” Roman added hurriedly.

“You look comfortable. It’s okay,” Virgil mumbled, pretending that Roman’s consent was the first thing that had crossed his mind at the offer, about to turn his attention back to Maleficent and her evil plotting.

“No, no! It’s fine!” Roman urged, springing up and moving to one corner of the sofa, leaving a large proportion for Virgil. “See? I don’t mind.”

‘He doesn’t mind? Well that changes everything!’ a sarcastic voice inside of Virgil exclaimed, but Virgil still hesitantly got up, breath hitching as he moved over to the couch and slowly sat down. The material was cold against his skinny jeans and he hissed inwardly. But he gave Roman a smirk as if to show him that he didn’t really care, that his heart wasn’t beating a mile a minute because of the new location. But his smile twitched, so he quickly sat back, pulled his hoodie over his head, and crossed his arms, looking back at the small screen with a scowl. Stupid anxiety.

He was only trying to prove himself, after all, and he knew this because he could feel the fire of competition burning within him again. He wasn’t sitting down there because he wanted to be closer to Roman, no. That was preposterous. Roman probably asked him to sit there to challenge him. He just had to show Roman he wasn’t getting to him. Even though he was.

A few minutes passed, and Virgil silently prayed that those few minutes were spent with the two of them watching the movie and not Roman observing him without his consent. At the very thought of that, the sound of the film started to buzz in Virgil’s ears, and suddenly his breath was shortening, his hands were trembling. His body was screaming “Now, now, now!” but he hadn’t the slightest clue as to why. Now? Now what? No answer. So he gritted his teeth, resorting to squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to spontaneously combust.

“You have anxiety,” Roman suddenly said, grabbing the remote and putting Sleeping Beauty on pause, the screen freezing on a frame showing Aurora ascending the staircase, completely entranced by the green light. 

“What?” Virgil choked, the word sucked into him as if he had inhaled it. He looked at Roman, whose whole body was facing his, a concerned look stuck on his face. 

“You have anxiety,” Roman repeated as if he was realizing it for the first time, then he looked at Virgil’s shaking figure. “And- are you having a panic attack right now? Should I get you something to help? I think I have-“

“No, no, I’m fine,” Virgil breathed at a steady rhythm, putting a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat fall back into a normal lull. “I think I’m fine now.”

“Oh... okay,” Roman said with a nod, ready to turn back to the movie.

“Wait!” Virgil screeched, and Roman’s head snapped in his direction. “How’d you know that?” 

“Know what?”

“That I have anxiety, dumbass!”

“Hm. Well it’s not that hard to tell,” Roman explained. “I couldn’t really see it that well when I first met you, especially since you were really brave at telling off Denis and me—kinda sassy too—but whenever I look into your eyes... there’s always a hint of fear behind those brown irises. That may sound weird, I’m sorry, but you also start to shake when you talk to people you’re angry with, your lip wobbles whenever the slightest thing goes wrong, and your breathing does get a bit heavy. Just to name a few things I noticed.”

“You know the signs?” Virgil inquired curiously, looking down at his sleeves and fiddling with them. His bad boy facade was starting to crumble as soon as Roman saw through it. Not even Patton was able to see through it all the way. Then again, Roman was an actor. He could probably sniff out those kinds of things. Damn, was Virgil stupid to think he could slip past Roman’s radar undetected. 

“My mom has anxiety,” Roman explained with a shrug. “My little sister, Fiona, might have it too.”

“Do they live here with you?”

“Yeah, but they let us have the place to ourselves tonight. Fiona wanted to go to the grand opening to that new toy store downtown.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “And... how did they- you know? Birth, or-?”

“No,” Roman answered, his head tilting downwards and it was a clear a surge of memories was hitting him. “It was... uh. My father.”

Virgil gulped, already hating where this was going.

“He was wonderful,” Roman sighed, eyes already wetting as he thought about him. “Our family was wonderful. It was just me, Dad, Mom, and later Fiona. We were so happy. Life was perfect, Virgil. We had a small, little house on the corner of the street, Fiona and I rode our bikes to school everyday together. We laughed, we played, and Mom and Dad loved each other. We all did.”

A tear streamed down Roman’s left cheek, then another on his right, and soon his whole lower face was coated in salty wetness as it trembled. Virgil watched him carefully as his eyes turned red and his nose started to sniffle.

“I- I don’t know what to think of it. It was so long ago, but I still don’t know how to think of it,” he mumbled. “One day, we were perfectly happy, just as always, the next, Dad is dead. Mom is crying, Fiona is crying and she’s only in Kindergarten, she didn’t even know what was going on, and then I’m crying. Our dad was the only one that worked, so we had to move here a year later because we couldn’t afford the house anymore, and Mom got a job at Hobby Lobby. It’s been really hard, and I know people have gone through so much worse in their lives, but it still hurts, Virge. As far as tragic backstories go, this one isn’t that bad, but it’s still mine, and I-” 

Roman let out a heavy sigh. “Somedays I just want to die so I can join him, but Mom says we have to stay strong, and I have to be there for Fiona.”

Virgil was looking at the floor now, hanging onto every word as if his life depended on it. He wanted to console Roman, tell him whatever emotions he currently had were valid, but he had a feeling he had already heard those words many times before. He knew he certainly had. So Virgil nodded in understanding as Roman finished.

“Mom was diagnosed with anxiety and bipolar disorder not too long after that,” Roman said, finally looking at Virgil. His face was blotched red and his voice was hoarse from all the sobbing. “We’re testing Fiona for anxiety now that she’s in third grade. She probably has depression too. Who knows...”

“I’m.. so sorry, Roman,” Virgil said softly, and he watched Roman shake his head and wipe the sticky tears off his face with his sleeve.

“It- it’s not your fault, Virge,” he reminded him, and Virgil nodded again.

The air sat heavy between them then, and for some reason Virgil felt like he owed Roman something. His own tragic backstory. Virgil bit his lip. He already played this eye for an eye game, and he just couldn’t tell him. No one ever knew about what happened besides him, Aunt Val, and... well, he already knew how that turned out, telling someone he thought he could trust.

But he looked at Roman and he knew he had to. He’d just leave some parts out. Yeah, that’s it. That’ll work.

“I could never understand what you went through, Roman, I want you to know that,” Virgil said. “No one ever will. They didn’t live it. But I can’t say I’d didn’t already go through some of life’s shit myself.”

He looked down at his scrawny legs, picking at the tears in his jeans absently. “My life was never perfect, as much as I’d have liked it to be. My mom was always a little too naive for this world. She believed she could make it in this world by just being an artist—painter, to be more specific. She... uh, loved art. It was her passion, it was why she was put onto the face of the planet. So she went to an art school for college, just like she said she would, but then her own innocent stupidity came back for revenge.”

Virgil, from the corner of his eyes, saw Roman take a quick intake of breath. Whether he knew what was coming next or not, Virgil continued. “She met this guy and they... fell in love,” Virgil said, voice trembling now. “She was young, twenty-one years old and in her junior year, but she already believed she had found her soulmate. Jump forward a few years, you have me. A few years after that, the guy’s true self was revealed. He became an alcoholic and abusive in every sense of the word towards my mom.”

Virgil stopped to look at Roman again, and now the boy’s eyes were no longer shining. Virgil thought he would never see the day, but he regretted ever telling Roman the story of his miserable life when he saw the hurt and tragic sympathy in those specks of green and brown. So he shut his mouth and returned to looking down at his muddy sneakers until Roman gently put a hand on his knee. Virgil flinched, and Roman automatically took his hand off. Virgil stared at him with wide eyes, then, forcing himself to relax and not be a weirdo that was allergic to physical empathy for once, grabbed Roman’s hand and let it touch his knee again.

“So, years of being whipped with belts and stuffed in closets later, he finally snaps and... um, kills my mom. Long story short, he’s in jail now, never to be heard of again, and I’m living with my Aunt Valerie. We actually moved here to ‘start a better life,’ as she had said it. Meanwhile, I just want to finish high school, disappear with my guitar for the rest of my life, and then die. Just like everyone else eventually will.” 

Roman gulped, and Virgil was brought out of his dark vision as he smirked. “I’m sorry, uh... yeah,” Roman whispered, moving his hand to Virgil’s back and patting it lightly, in a way that was no longer awkward.

“Just one of the joys of being me,” Virgil said simply with a shrug, as if it wasn’t the most horrific backstory Roman had ever had to sit through. 

“Nice Wreck-It-Ralph reference,” Roman complimented.

Virgil laughed. “Thanks.”

A bit of silence passed with Roman rubbing Virgil’s back, then he removed his hand in favor of twirling his thumbs. “So... is that why you yelled at me for- um...?” he began.

“-for when you tried to talk about soulmates? Yeah,” Virgil responded. “Just... I don’t get it. It’s cruel; everyone is born with a person they were meant to be with, but this person could be anyone! You could be a freaking Texan while this guy is waiting for you in his home country of Japan! And you never know if he’s your soulmate? It’s like the universe’s forces were trying to punish us. And then you have people like my mom who think they’ve found the love of their love only to be dead wrong—literally, Roman.”

Virgil hadn’t even noticed he had sat up again during his rant, and he lay back with a long sigh followed by a groan. “And then, even worse, if you somehow do find your soulmate, they’re just gonna die. Or you’re gonna die. Either way, the two of you die. We’re all doomed for tragedy, soulmate or not, and I’d think having a soulmate just makes it worse. At least you had someone to live for then.”

Roman stayed quiet, and when Virgil finished he made a small sound of acknowledgement. “But happy endings can happen even with... death. I mean, who wants to live for forever, am I right?”

“No one. Not on this miserable planet,” Virgil pointed out.

Roman frowned, glancing up at the frozen screen, at Aurora’s hypnotized face. The scene was all too eerie, the equivalent to a horror movie in which the audience screams to the character to not go into the basement for the monster was hidden there. But no matter what you did, the TV played on, and the worst would always seem to happen.

For a second, he could almost see Virgil’s view of the world. A gloomy, depressing place where life didn’t matter because the end was inevitable and therefore everything was pointless. Snow White simply died from eating the Evil Queen’s apple, Ariel lost her voice for forever and Ursula took over Triton’s throne, Mulan died in her quest to save China... Roman shivered. 

“Well... you also have to look at it like this, Hot Topic,” Roman muttered. “We weren’t only born to die, we were born to live. And we’re here, so we might as well live life the best we can. Make as many happy memories as we can!”

“Nostalgia,” Virgil said, and shuddered. “I hate memories. What’s the point at looking back at those things if they only make you sadder that your life now isn’t as... good?”

“Hey, I get pretty happy looking back at them, but yeah. It can get pretty regretful sometimes, I guess,” Roman replied, voice becoming sad. “I... I’ve been through enough break-ups to tell you that much.”

“How many?” Virgil asked quietly.

Roman shrugged. “Lost count. I’m not an asshole, if that’s what you’re thinking—but that is your opinion, I suppose. I just- I’m like your mom, huh?” Roman waved his hands around sadly as he explained, “I fall in love too easily; I dream too much about finding about my one and only; I throw myself at people’s feet, practically begging them to go out with me. But you’re right. Who knows if my true soulmate is living somewhere in Russia, while I’m sitting down all the way over here in a small town in Florida?”

“You’d probably take a trip around the world if that were the case,” Virgil chuckled.

“Oh, I’d go around the world as many times as I could if it meant that I could find my soulmate,” Roman sighed. “And when I do, I’ll cherish them, I’ll spoil them, but most of all, I’ll love them. We’d be the soulmates everyone’s jealous of, not Patton and Logan, the ones straight out of a Disney movie. And I don’t care which one of us dies first. My happily ever after would be knowing I found them.”

Virgil didn’t say anything, and the moment seemed like nothing should have been said. Roman grabbed the remote and started playing the movie again, and soon Sleeping Beauty was done with. All Virgil was thinking about was what Roman had said. He couldn’t be right... right? Happily ever afters never happened, not with death in the way, but watching Roman hum along to the music at the end of the movie as Aurora and Philip danced happily made him smile nonetheless.

No matter their beginnings and endings, though, Virgil had a feeling that Roman Prince was a person he could actually somehow get used to. Foolish, naive fantasies and all.


	3. Prince Charming

“Damn you Aunt Val and your tiny ass handwriting,” Virgil grumbled under his breath, squinting down at the paper in his hands. Virgil was blind without his prescription glasses but he chose not to never wear them in case they ruined his aesthetic (and contacts creeped him out, quite frankly.) 

Virgil was in the middle of grocery shopping, staring down at the list she had made for him whilst walking through a particularly packed aisle. Luckily the earbuds in his ears helped jam out all the sound around him so at least he couldn’t hear the locomotion he was seeing. Then again, he wasn’t really paying any attention because a few seconds later as he was trying to guess if Valerie had written tomatoes or potatoes down he ran right into a passerby.

He felt his nose being shoved into their arm and he jerked back as fast as he could, calming down a little after seeing who it was. Roman smiled back at him, instantly wrapping him up in a big hug. “Alright, alright, Princey,” Virgil said, ripping off of him. Public affection wasn’t a strength of his.

“Virgil!” Roman cried. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“It’s literally the grocery store.” Virgil frowned. It had been a couple weeks since the night he spent with Roman watching as many Disney movies as they could. Even so, they didn’t finish them all and Virgil said he’d come by again sometime to watch the rest. Right. He still needed to do that.

This was actually his first time seeing Roman since then on accident. They had spent the last couple weeks getting to know one another better, laughing at inside jokes in Choir, hanging at The Mind Palace during Virgil’s shifts, and there was even one weekend when they met up with Logan and Patton and all went to a movie together. Having a friend like Roman wasn’t too bad, Virgil realized, and he even managed to get closer to Logan because of it.

“This is good!” Roman said, wrapping an arm around Virgil who quickly shoved him off. “I’ve never been to this store before so I can’t find anything and I think the employee’s here are starting to get mad at me for asking so many questions.”

Virgil groaned and motioned to Roman’s list in his hand. “Lemme see that.” Roman handed it to him and Virgil scanned it quickly.

“Okay, milk’s over there-” Virgil jabbed his thumb behind him to the back of the store, “-rice is in aisle 46, canned peas is an aisle over-”

“Wait, wait, can’t you just show me?”

“Princey, in case you haven’t noticed I’m doing my own shopping here.”

“Great! Then we can shop together!” Roman exclaimed. Virgil rolled his eyes, knowing damn well there was no way he was getting rid of this loser any time soon, so he looked over both their lists, comparing them as best as he could.

“Um, well, we both need milk, I guess, and-” Virgil was looking between both lists uneasily, squinting harder and harder to see the blurred letters.

“Virgil? You okay, buddy?” 

“I’m fine, Roman.”

“Really? Because you’re kind of squinting. Like, a lot.”

“Didn’t notice.”

“Virgil!” Roman screeched, snatching both lists from him. Virgil nearly hissed at him but Roman was too fast. “You can’t see can you?”

“I can see fine. It’s not really a big deal.”

“Uh, yeah, it kind of is,” Roman huffed, rolling his eyes. “Here, I’ll find what we both need and read it out to you. I’ll be your eyes! Sound good?”

Virgil grunted. “Ugh, fine.” Roman smiled victoriously and led Vigil out of the aisle. 

“Alright. So you said the milk was over there?”

“Yup. Right under the sign that says in clear bold letters ‘Frozen Section,’” Virgil drawled sarcastically. 

“Says the guy who can’t even read his own handwriting.”

“My handwriting is not that feminine. It’s Aunt Valerie’s.”

“Aw, what? The little baby can’t write his own grocery list?” Roman cooed.

“Like you wrote our own. I’ve seen your handwriting and that’s not it.”

Roman flushed. “Okay, it’s Fiona’s. So what?”

Virgil smirked. “Your little sister writes your grocery lists?”

“Look I don’t talk about your aunt writing yours and you don’t talk about Fiona writing mine. Deal?”

Virgil hummed playfully. “I don’t know, doesn’t seem like a very fair deal to me.” They stopped both their carts as they stood in front of an aisle of milk cartons. Roman spots the one he wants and is quick to grab it but Virgil doesn’t move.

What was it doing up there? It was never that high up. Too high, too high. Virgil growled. He hated being vertically challenged with every fiber of his being. 

“Something wrong?”

Virgil just nodded upwards, too embarrassed to say anything. Roman must have understood him because he snickered and then asked him, “Want me to get that for you?”

“Please,” Virgil said, trying to hide his blushing face behind his hood. Roman laughed again and grabbed the milk from the very top shelf and gave it to Virgil. Virgil threw it into his cart casually as if to show the whole exchange didn’t make him feel weird inside. But it did.

Roman had helped him. Not only that, but he had helped him knowing what Virgil needed without him having to say anything. The whole ordeal felt so cheesy and domestic to Virgil… he lifted a hand to his face to feel his still-red face. He shook his head as violently as he could only to notice Roman was already zooming ahead of him.

“Coming, Robert Downer Jr.?” Roman called behind him.

Virgil smiled warmly in return before racing his cart towards Roman. And finally, grocery shopping was going to be a little more interesting.

-

Virgil was standing at Roman’s doorway, picking at his face that was caked in more white foundation than usual. Roman had gone to The Mind Palace the day before--Halloween, mind you--suggesting the two meet that Friday night to finish their movie marathon, but this time in costume. Virgil had no idea who Roman was dressing up as, possibly Prince Charming from Cinderella, but he had gone with a personal favorite of his, Jack Skellington. 

His face was coated in thick white makeup and his eyeshadow was much darker around his eyes and black painted stitches stretched out from his lips. It may have been on short notice, but with Aunt Valerie’s help Virgil was able to trim a spare tuxedo he found into one loosely resembling Jack’s. He even gelled down his purple hair, and he couldn’t help but be proud of the creepy yet cartoony style he had accomplished within a day. When Roman eventually opened the door after several knocks, Virgil looked him over with some surprise. 

“Ah, Flynn Rider,” Virgil observed. “To match your ego, I assume?” Roman proudly tugged at his teal vest and smiled, smug.

“Ah, Jack Smellington. To go with your resemblance of a dark and stormy night, I assume?” Roman said back, and Virgil rolled his eyes playfully.

It didn’t take the two long to sprawl themselves across the couch, watching Mulan save China as they went through bags and bags of buttery popcorn. The evening was actually one of the best ones Virgil had had in that sleepy town so far, laughing along to jokes in the films and throwing popcorn at Roman whenever he said something stupid or shallow—which was often. And for once in a very long time, Virgil actually felt his guard slipping down.

“Hey, Virge,” Roman suddenly called, putting Princess & The Frog on pause. “Are we... close friends now?” 

And his guard was back. Virgil let out a long breath, carding his hands through his hair, then remembered he had gelled it and made a face of disgust in return. “I don’t exactly know how this works. I haven’t had a real, close friend since-“ Virgil flinched. “Well, I mean, Patton’s pretty much the first general friend I've had in a really long time, and I think it just happened naturally after he started calling me his friend and stuff. But I’m not exactly sure how this whole thing works myself...”

“I know, I know. It’s just weirder for us since we started out hating each other before we got to really understand one another,” Roman reasoned, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I figured since the past few weeks we’ve gotten to learn how fucked up each other’s lives are, even if yours is probably—no, definitely worse than mine.”

“I mean... I guess we’re close friends if you want to be,” Virgil said, and Roman smiled. 

“Fine by me, Charlie Frown,” he said, scooping another handful of popcorn into his mouth and Virgil couldn’t help but laugh. For such a mannered man in every other aspect of life, Roman was definitely not a clean eater. Roman laughed with him, but his face became grim not too long after.

“And, actually Virgil, there was a more... serious question I wanted to ask you.”

Virgil nearly choked on a popcorn kernel. “You mean that wasn’t the serious question?”

“I don’t have to ask you it if you don’t want me to,” Roman said quickly. “It’s about soulmates so... if it’s too much for you...”

Virgil put a hand on his chest, evening out his breathing and reminding himself he was safe and Roman wasn’t going to try and hurt him. “No. It’s okay. Shoot.”

“Um, okay. So, Virgil, since we’re good friends now, I expect you to answer me honestly,” Roman continued, his voice slowing with every word. “I remember we talked about how our soulmates could be someone we have no possibility of meeting, so... do you maybe think I’ll never find mine?”

Roman’s head now hung low, voice small and almost ashamed. It was already a known fact now to Virgil, but in that moment it really sunk into him how insecure Roman really was. It hadn’t exactly been clear to him when he first knew him, but Virgil could now see the signs of Roman’s low self-esteem, how he had crafted his speech and actions to specifically hide that part of himself in public, even contrast it. He really was a great actor. And Virgil was able to see right through him. He felt a weird satisfaction at that.

“I...” Virgil finally spoke, carefully, as he picked at his thumbnail. “Geez, Roman. That’s not my place to say, and you know that.”

“I know,” Roman whined, hanging his head low, “but I just want a sign. Or someone to tell me I have nothing to worry about. That I’ll find my soulmate and finally be happy. I don’t know.” He sighed, long and heavy and full of years’ worth of weight.

“You don’t have to have a soulmate to be happy,” Virgil said, the words clearly having been said many times before by the way they rolled out of his mouth so easily. “I mean, look at me. I’ve totally let go of the idea that I’d ever find my soulmate. I don’t want to find my soulmate, and now I’m- I’m...”

Roman shot him an incredulous look, and Virgil shook his head. “Okay, you’re right. Not the best example,” Virgil corrected with a small laugh, but Roman didn’t even snicker at the joke, instead sitting up and crossing his arms over his knees.

“I’m not like you Virgil. Sometimes... sometimes I wish I was. You’re strong, you’re independent, you don’t need a man on Earth and you believe no man on Earth should need you,” Roman admitted softly. “But I need someone. I live for the day I find my soulmate and only that day. I could meet my soulmate two seconds before I die and I’ll go happy. That’s all I’ll ever need, to have physical, living proof that someone out there was really made for me, meant to be with me. But, until then, what am I, Virgil? A hopeless, lonely excuse for a human being, that’s what.”

“Don’t say that,” Virgil barked. “You’re much less of a waste than I am. You’ve got a future, at least, and who knows? Maybe you will find your soulmate. Maybe I will too. But, you see, Roman, you’ll be the one that marries them, buys a little house on the corner of a quiet street and lives the rest of your grand adventure known as life or whatever with them. I’ll be the one that rejects them forever and spend my days hunched over my guitar, writing songs about things no one cares about.”

“Everything you say is creepy,” Roman laughed. “But in a good way. I like you, Virgil. I honestly don’t know how I was thick-headed enough to hate you before I even knew you, especially considering my own situation.”

Virgil blew a raspberry. “Ah, don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re not that bad either, Princey.” Roman made a face at the nickname, hurling a piece of popcorn at his newly-found friend. Then his face dropped, and Virgil really wished he’d stop doing that as he felt his stomach flip inside of him again.

“Virgil, how... how do you know Denis Cire?”

Virgil groaned a bit, sinking deeper into the couch at the mention of his least favorite person in the world… besides Anthony, of course. 

“It was a long time ago. Long story.”

“We have time,” Roman said. “Fiona and my mom are sleeping over at her friend’s house. They won’t be here until morning, honest.”

Virgil laughed, and deciding Roman was right, began, “Honest. Something Denis never was. It was a long time ago, worst year of my life, but most memorable. My mom had died, Anthony was sent to prison for life, and I had no one but Aunt Valerie and Denis. We’d been best friends for a good years, it was us two outcasts against the world. No bond was greater than ours.” Virgil’s face darkened.

“But he’s an asshole. Always has been, always will be. I’m not sure a single thing that comes out of his mouth isn’t a lie. Most of the ones I caught him in where white lies, but one day- one day he told me the principal was going to get me in trouble because my dad was a murderer. Keep in mind, not even the teachers at that school knew... uh, a husband killing his wife isn’t exactly something they put on the local news, especially if their kid is, well, just a kid.”

Roman hummed, face twisted in concentration as he started at Virgil, prodding him to continue. How many things has Virgil told Princey that he hadn’t told anyone else besides Aunt Val? He was beginning to lose count, and Virgil was unsure what to think of it. “Anyways, Denis moved to here not too long after that, so I didn’t have to see his stupid face for that much longer after our fight.” Virgil sniffled, and it was then he noticed he had started crying and his voice had started wavering.

“But he took with him way more than my dignity, Ro. Thanks to him, I haven’t made a single friend until I moved here. If I didn’t like people before, I downright hated people then.” Virgil sighed. “It’s just that... Denis and I had the kind of friendship where we promised to marry each other if we didn’t find our soulmates by the time we were fifty, or something. Maybe I would have still believed in love after what happened with my parents if it weren’t for Denis. Maybe even had a crush on him, I don’t know. It’s possible since I can never pin down my emotions it seems. But after that, after I lost the person that I believed was the closest thing I was ever going to have to a lover, I got stuck on the idea that romance is just meant to hurt people, especially me, and I wanted none of it. Still don’t.”

“Oh, Virgil,” Roman said, voice practically dripping with sympathy. “I- I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m truly sorry about what happened, but you can’t just let one spoiled relationship define you. After all, look where letting your guard down got you. You have Patton now, and me...”

“Yeah, but you guys are just... my buddies. I’m still not used to having you two and Logan always being around, and as much I like you three, I guess it just takes time for me to really feel comfortable with other people,” Virgil explained. “I mean, it’s been like nine years since my last friend. And if it’s taken me this long to get used to friendship, I’ll never get used to a relationship. Just count me out of life’s stupid love scheme and let me live in peace, friendless or not.”

The conversation seemed to finish when Roman didn’t argue, and Roman played the movie once more. After The Princess And The Frog, they started up Tangled. And while Roman claimed the classics were still better, he did admit aloud after popping in the DVD that Rapunzel and Flynn Rider were two of his absolute favorite Disney characters.

“You mean Rapunzel and Eugene,” Virgil argued. “The name symbolizes his character development, remember Princey?”

“Same difference,” Roman huffed with a light smile.

Most of the movie went okay, and Virgil had to say it was still one of his favorites. And he could easily see how Roman loved these two characters so much; they were, after all, a lot like him. Rapunzel had Roman’s creativity, wonder for adventure, and slight naiveness when it came to human nature. Eugene had Roman’s ego, but insecurities that were uncovered as the film went on, and true courage. It made sense for Roman to be very attached to the couple, and when the infamous angst scene came on--the one in which Rapunzel was hunched over Eugene, crying for him and the bloody wound in his side--Roman cried.

Virgil nearly jumped up at the sound of sobbing, but when he saw Roman bawling he quickly put the movie on pause, right in the middle of Rapunzel’s sad singing. He scooted closer to his friend, unsure of how to offer sympathy, and awkwardly put a hand on the small of his back. Then he hushed Roman with soothing sounds and words, oddly paced and carefully chosen. 

Usually the only person he’d have to comfort those days was Aunt Valerie whenever she was thinking of her sister again, to which Virgil would massage her gently and remind her to keep going and keep painting, for Anastasia’s sake. That often worked.

As Roman started to calm down, hiccuping slightly, he looked up at Virgil with watery eyes. “D-do you need anything?” Virgil whispered. “Tissues? Where do you keep your-“

But Roman ignored him, instead climbing into Virgil’s lap and hugging him tightly. Virgil let out a small gasp, completely appalled by the action, but slowly let his arms snake around Roman and hold him. The embrace was desperate, and Virgil felt Roman cry into his shoulder. Virgil understood this was about much more than what had happened on the TV. 

He needed comfort, Virgil told himself, but the feeling of a warm body right up against his made him squirm. Virgil could feel the twitches of Roman’s limbs, his heavy breathing going in and out of his lungs, the way the knees of his legs knocked against his own. Feeling another panic attack coming on, he gulped down the nervousness and licked his lips. Virgil allowed himself to calm down enough to gingerly twirl a few strands of Roman’s hair around his pale, scrawny fingers. Then he spoke quietly, “Roman. W-what-“

“How do you do it?” Roman asked. 

“Do what?”

“Live- live without caring whether people like you or not? I know- I know it’s because you’re hurt by what happened to you. I know, I know, I know. But- but how?” Roman choked out. “I want to know how so I don’t have to care anymore either. Tell me how please.”

“Roman... Ro, that’s impossible,” Virgil said. “You think that I don’t care, but the truth is, I’m always gonna care. Goddammit, you think I don’t think about what people think about me? That I don’t care about the people in the hall, giving me nasty glares and whispering about me behind covered mouths? I try to remind myself it’s not gonna matter, in five years no one’s gonna remember me or who I was, but not caring? That’s impossible.”

“But- but you don’t care about finding your soulmate. How?”

“Roman,” Virgil mumbled, pulling away from Roman and he grasped his large shoulders firmly and forcefully. “You need love to survive, I get that. Don’t feel bad about it, most people do in this world. But I don’t. It’s just the way I am. I would take away that part of you if I could, I swear. Love is a torture I’d take away from anyone in an instant. It’s something you don’t deserve, Roman. I’m sorry.”

Roman nodded, then turned to cough and Virgil let go of him. When Roman returned, Virgil smiled. “Hey, remember choir class today?” he inquired. 

“Yeah,” Roman answered hesitantly, not sure where this was going.

“That piece we’re doing, ‘Meadows Of Butterflies’... I like the end of the song. It’s soft, but has rough, edgy notes mixed in the middle of it,” Virgil said wistfully. “I like to imagine that’s because of what the song symbolizes; the butterflies in a person’s stomach that they got from being with someone they loved broke free. When all they got back was rejection, the notes became sour from hurt, but it still had that sweet tune underneath to show that they understand that love is a greater pain than a knife to the chest, and they understood that’s what they signed up for and they will continue on with life, loveless but content.”

“Or they hope to fall in true love soon,” Roman offered, his voice returning to its fanciful sounding tone. 

“Sure,” Virgil said sarcastically. 

As they watched again, Roman let out a happy sigh at the sight of Rapunzel reviving Eugene and reuniting with her family. Re-. What a funny prefix, meaning to happen or do again. Virgil silently wondered how it would feel to be able to do some parts of his life again. He’d definitely never befriend Deceit, maybe be more open to Patton and Roman sooner, but Anastasia was a different story. His being was the very proof that she had loved Anthony, and there was nothing Virgil could do about it. 

When the credits started rolling, Roman smiled sheepishly at Virgil. “Sorry for hugging you like that, and if I startled you at all,” he apologized. Virgil shrugged.

“It’s fine. Probably just all the emotions getting to you,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, but hey. Serious question time... do you ever go to cemeteries? I figured since you’re a death-obsessed emo you would, but you’ve also been through a lot of trauma so...”

“Oh. Yeah, I do,” Virgil said. “It’s kind of a habit. Aunt Val finds it to be weird, she doesn’t like reminding herself about Mom’s death. But I feel it’s good to remember. Remembering the dead is the only way to give purpose to people’s lives, I think. I don’t visit Mom’s grave necessarily, if that’s what you’re saying, just random people. I’ll nod to them, or pick a flower nearby and put it by where they’re buried. It’s a metaphor to me. We only pick the flowers that are most the beautiful, just as life seems to kill off the ones that are the most precious to us.”

Virgil huffed a little at that. “Really, we only just care about certain ones.”

Roman soaked this in, then said, “I visit my dad monthly. Just something to offer him respect, but not too excessively.” He looked up at Virgil, who expected to see that mysterious shining in his eyes again, only to be met with a different glow.

Roman looked back at Virgil differently, but he couldn’t tell if it was a matter of respect or friendship. Some kind of deeper understanding of each other, Virgil supposed, and he patted Roman’s back as they started up Brave. And he tried to ignore the energy crackling between him and Roman, too tired to pinpoint it and too content to want to worry much about it.


	4. In Your Dreams

But maybe Virgil's should’ve paid more attention to the way Roman had looked at him that night. The next day, after Talyn and Joan left from their Saturday afternoon shift, Virgil recounted the night to Patton during their evening shift at The Mind Palace, who wanted to hear all about how their friendship was progressing, and Virgil made sure to leave out all the personal details. No need to explain him and Roman’s life stories to Patton.

When he finished telling him how they watched Brave and then the rest of the Disney movies up to Moana early in the morning, Patton returned to pouring himself a coffee with a sly smile. 

“What?” Virgil barked. He was used to Patton smiling, sure, but this one was more sneaky, like he knew something that Virgil didn’t.

“Oh, nothing. Except, you know, for the fact that... you guys are so in love!” Patton squealed, turning to Virgil with a beaming smile and a coffee in hand, spinning with such a force it threatened to spill it.

“What?!” Virgil squeaked. His eyes blew up wide at the very suggestion, so appalled by the statement he felt every nerve in his body go ablaze. “Gross! Patton, oh God! Why the fuck would you say that?” He rubbed at his eyes as if he could undo everything that just happened by unseeing it. 

“Come on, kiddo! Tight hugs, really long conversations about love during Disney movies, looking at you strangely? The only explanation is he just has a big ol’ crush on you!” Patton explained, as if it was the most simplest thing in the world to understand.

“That’s just how Sir Sing-A-Lot is,” Virgil said dismissively, flicking his hoodie on. “He flirts so much it’s his default mode at this point.”

“And you even have cute nicknames for each other, look at that.”

Virgil groaned like a child that just got unfairly punished by a parent, throwing himself on top of the register and sticking out his tongue at the empty cafe before him. It made his skin crawl, the idea of him and Roman. The audacity-

“Look, Virge,” Patton sighed, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, sounding softer. “I know you don’t like Roman in that way, but if he ever does like you, give him a chance, okay? For me?”

A chance? A chance! Since when did Virgil ever get any chances? Why should he be the one giving them?! Besides, him and Roman had just barely become friends after a month of hating each other not too long ago! This was all happening so fast, too soon-

“Why?!” Virgil growled, turning to face his friend, an anger in his eyes Patton had never seen before. “Why are you so invested in my social life? He doesn’t love me! He hasn’t even been here all day at the café to see me! And- and what could you possibly see in the two of us together that could actually work?”

“I’m not saying I see anything,” Patton said, adjusting his glasses, speaking slowly now. “All I’m saying is Roman is a sensitive fellow. He falls in love with everyone he meets, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the next person was you.”

Virgil felt a panic settle in his pounding heart. Holy shit. Patton was right. What if the next person was him?! He thought he’d told Roman he didn’t want love! What an idiot. He needed to stop. He needed to go. He needed to-

“I doubt it,” Virgil suddenly said, remembering their conversations, their mutual understandings. “Roman knows that we’re just friends. This conversation is so nonsensical I don’t know why I’m even participating in it.” But he mainly said that to himself, trying to calm down his shaking body. All this really went out to prove was he wasn’t ready for romance. He wasn’t ready for Roman. They were just friends. He would never be ready. He didn’t want to be ready.

“He dated Logan once you know, before we got together. Him and Lo have known each other for a long time, after all,” Patton said. “It almost worked, but Roman said he knew it in his heart they weren’t soulmates and it felt like he was cheating on somebody. Poor guy could use all the chances in the world. Especially after what happened with-“

Patton stopped, suddenly scared to continue. Virgil looked at him, suspicious, realizing Patton said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“With who?” A beat.

“I don’t remember his name,” Patton sighed. “And I think Roman likes to keep it that way. Some jerk he met in the cast of one of his plays. Roman fell in love with him almost immediately, and the two dated for a very long time. This was after him and Lo’s thing, and Roman really thought he had found true love. But he always said something was off, and they eventually broke up. We don’t know how or why, just that it was the most upset Roman had ever been in a while... possibly ever.” Ouch.

“See, I couldn’t hurt Princey like that,” Virgil said quickly. “He’s stupid, but not that stupid to ever think we would last. Anyone who’s gone through a break-up like that is bound to know that. So stop entertaining the idea.”

Patton shrugged again, now quiet, and Virgil almost felt bad. But it really was dumb. Him and Roman? They just barely got used to being friends, and now lovers? Virgil could laugh out loud under different circumstances, if he didn’t feel so jittery and anxious at the mention of him participating in romance. 

“So let’s say you never get in a relationship,” Patton pressed on, sounding weak but still determined. “You’re too afraid, kiddo, I get that, but- if Roman ever liked you, no... scratch that. Regardless if Roman ever liked you or not, in that way, and regardless if you’d ever feel comfortable being in a relationship with him, do you think you’d ever... you know, like him?”

Virgil slammed his hands on the counter, and sighed loudly. “Patton, I love you, dude,” Virgil said. “And I get it if you like the idea of me and Roman together. Imagine what your little heart desires, man, but I could never love Roman, and not just because I never want to love anyone. He’s my friend. That’s all, end of story.”

“Even if you were soulmates?”

The question was almost inaudible, a mere whisper Patton murmured, and Virgil supposed it was a rhetorical question. But Virgil answered it anyways, just as silent, under his breath.

“I don’t deserve to be his soulmate.”

Really, he didn’t deserve to be anybody’s soulmate. But Roman, this guy he used to act like was the scum under his shoe, he especially didn’t deserve. So, hypothetically, maybe he did like Roman in that way. Maybe he didn’t. He didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. Virgil didn’t need a man on Earth, and no man on Earth should need him. 

Now if only that were true.

-

Meanwhile, Roman skipped merrily down a sidewalk, humming some Cinderella song Logan didn’t recognize as he tried to focus on the words in his book. But one wrong step and Roman crashed into him, apologizing profusely, then went right back to his hopping and singing. Logan sighed, finally accepting he wouldn’t be getting any real reading done so long as he was with Roman, and stuffed his book in his backpack. 

“I don’t see why we have to be at The Mind Palace right after rehearsal,” Logan grouched. “We had rehearsal in the morning as well and it’s been a long day. It would be much more ideal just to go home.”

“Aw, that’s no fun, Microsoft Nerd,” Roman said with a playful pout. “Don’t you want to see your soulmate?”

“Of course. But knowing you, Roman, this is about a matter far beyond Patton’s relationship with me,” Logan stated. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be frolicking around on a quiet street at six at night.”

“You say that like you haven’t witnessed me doing worse things, Lo.”

Logan simply grimaced in response and clucked his tongue. “Roman, you are a generally happy person, but it isn’t hard to tell that you are acting much more joyous than usual. If you don’t tell me why, I will have to resort to the only other logical explanation I can think of.” 

Roman cocked his head at his friend, who gave him a knowing smile. “What’s that?” he questioned innocently.

“Drugs.”

“Logan!” Roman cried, slapping his friend’s shoulder and then adjusting his messenger bag. “Geez, can’t a guy just be happy for the fun of it and not be interrogated on his behavior?” 

Logan gave him a blank look, which only made Roman’s smile split open even bigger. “What did you do?” Logan asked, patience nearly gone.

“Oh, fine, since you asked so nicely,” Roman said, marching on with perhaps a dopier grin on his face than... well, Dopey’s. He was getting a kick out of this guessing game, and Logan hated it dearly.

“I just had the best night of my life last night, that’s all,” Roman sang. The teasing tone in his voice made Logan turn and look at him, finally seeing the blush blooming over Roman’s cheeks. All too familiar and all too pink to just be blamed on the heat.

“You fell in love again, didn’t you?” Logan asked in a dry voice. 

“Yes!” Roman exclaimed, laughing giddily as if he were drunk and spun around the same way, so much so that Logan grew dizzy. “But, oh Logan! This isn’t just any other love! This is the love of a thousand wishes on a thousand stars come true! This is the love that makes a thousand wars fall to their knees! This is the love of a Prince and his dashing knight!” 

Roman grew louder as he went on, feeling his heart flutter with every word and holding his hands to his chest in a moment of satisfying bliss as his eyes fell closed.

“Right,” Logan said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And who exactly did you fall for this time...?”

Roman dramatically turned to Logan, strutting his hip and rolling his shoulder in such a way it was almost seductive, but knowing the goofball that Roman was, it was just silly-looking to Logan.

“Virgil,” Roman said, the name pressing out of his soft lips and hanging in the air between him and an agape Logan for a good three seconds. 

Then Logan shut his mouth, took a deep breath, and turned away, facing his back towards Roman. After a few deep breaths in attempts of collecting himself, Logan spun back around to Roman and frowned.

“Clearly we’re not on the same page here, Roman,” Logan said, but his voice shook slightly regardless. “You don’t mean- you couldn’t possibly mean-“

“I am in love with Virgil Hernandez,” Roman breathed, beaming brightly and eyes shining more than ever.

“Goddamnit.”

“How could I not be?! Oh, Logan, I could go on and on about all the reasons Virgil has me completely infatuated! His words, his freckles, his laugh—which is rare but is the most beautiful sound to ever bless the ears of the human race!” Roman let out a long, helpless sigh. “How could I have ever hated him? Him and I were simply meant to be!”

He sang out the last few words, the Nightmare Before Christmas reference completely slipping past Logan’s head, who was too much in a moment of shock to do anything about it. 

“Roman, I hate to break it to you, but Virgil’s walls are set so high you couldn’t even jump over them with those platform heels of yours. Metaphorically, of course. Virgil has no actual walls... actually that is yet to be proven. Have you ever been to his house? Regardless, you know he hates romance, it’s just illogical to ever think he would let them down anytime soon.”

“I know, but Logan-! Virgil is everything I could ask for!” Roman squealed. “I realized it when we were talking about cemeteries-“

“-such a wonderful conversation topic to be discussing when you realize you have become romantically attached to someone.”

“Shut up. Anyways, we were talking about cemeteries, and, oh, you should’ve heard the poetry this boy was spitting out of his mouth! It was dark, it was edgy, it was frighteningly beautiful,” Roman said, then clutched his chest with a small gasp. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, Logan.”

“Mm-hmm,” Logan hummed skeptically. “You know that hurts as an ex of yours.”

Roman laughed, his voice becoming more casual as he carded a hand through his wavy locks. “Well, you have Patton now. And look at the two of you! So in love, practically married! Don’t you think Virgil and I could ever be like that?”

The last question was a whimper, and Logan sighed, long and hard. The actual look of seriousness on Roman’s face stung him a bit. Unrequited love wasn’t uncommon for Roman, but this was Virgil they were talking about. Virgil. Of all people, Roman loved Virgil now!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, Roman, but that’s one thing I don’t know. The one thing logic doesn’t help guide is love. I was lucky enough to fall in love with Patton, and you are correct, I didn’t exactly want to fall in love with anyone, just like Virgil. But he’s different. His defensiveness is clearly at a higher level than mine has ever been at. And he is a grouchy, sarcastic, depressed--for lack of a better word--emo. Would you even be able to put up with that, much less love him?”

“Definitely,” Roman breathed, swooning a bit as he tripped over his own feet. “I could play with that violet hair for hours, listening to him tell me more poetic ideas about death or Disney.”

“You can have such odd turn-ons, sometimes,” Logan commented, walking more normally now as the idea finally began to process inside him. Roman loved Virgil? Roman loved Virgil. Well, up was down, left was right, and Logan was starting to get sick of looking at Roman’s lovesick face and walking-boarding-on-dancing. Logan grumbled something under his breath. 

“What was that, Lo?” 

“I am going to head home, Roman,” Logan repeated. “It’s getting late and I have a lot of homework to do.”

“It’s Saturday,” Roman pointed out with a frown. 

“I’m in college.” Logan shrugged, then waved goodbye as he crossed the street and headed to his apartment. Roman watched his friend leave sadly, but determined to not allow such a thing to dampen his mood, he resumed merrily skipping down the street until The Mind Palace was in view. Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing. He came here in the morning, but he had rehearsals so he believed that was excuse enough to drop by and see Virgil’s handsome face again. 

Roman swung the doors open with confidence, feeling a soft wind blow around him and the fragrances of coffee hit him in a wave of smells. He put on a dashing smile, strutting his way knowingly through the entrance that he’s walked through for years and reached the counter, seeing Patton messing with the coffee machine before he turned to him. At first, he looked surprised, then his trademark grin sprang onto his face and he greeted Roman loudly.

“Hello, Roman! What can I get for you on this wonderful evening?” Patton nearly screamed, putting strange emphasis on his name and eyeing the back of the café.

“Uh, not that it isn’t lovely to see you, Patton,” Roman said with his wistful charm, “but... er, where is Virgil?”

For some reason beyond Roman, Patton’s smile somehow widened at the mention of his fellow employee. He quickly went over to the door he had been staring at not too long ago marked Employee’s Room, swinging it open and calling out in a sing-song voice, “Vir-gil!” A groan sounded off from somewhere inside, then the thumping of sneakers meeting floor, and Virgil stepped out with a scowl. 

His hoodie was flung over himself loosely, nearly falling off his shoulders, one earbud propped into his ear while the other hung haphazardly. His purple hair was in knots, his lips were coated in layers of black lipstick as if he had decided to not take off his makeup from the previous night, and his sharp brown eyes were set on Patton, not even realizing Roman was there too, staring at him adoringly.

Roman had lied to Logan. He hadn’t started falling in love with Virgil during their conversation about cemeteries. It was before that. Roman probably would’ve never fallen for the punk teen barista if he hadn’t started that conversation with him while he was working on typing up a synopsis for Winter Wonderland. Truthfully, Roman always knew it wasn’t Virgil’s decision to sit and chat with him—just a setup made my Patton as another one of his attempts to bring more love and friendship into the world and whatnot. 

But after that first Friday of night confessing their insecurities and their horrible backstories, Roman couldn’t help but feel a connection. When Virgil had left early that morning, Roman shut the door behind him and immediately pressed his back to it, sighing blissfully and then continuing to slide down to the floor. It was like some powerful, invisible force took him and pulled him down, then stuffed a million loving thoughts about Virgil into his head. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but suddenly everything that was Virgil entranced him, a short, smart-mouthed goth teen that was as feisty as he was anxiety-prone. He once hated him, and despite that being less than a month ago, that time felt years away from Roman.

The conversation about cemeteries during their second movie marathon only confirmed Roman’s suspicions about him liking Virgil, and after saying goodbye to him and his adorable bedhead that morning after finishing Moana, it didn’t take long for those feelings to spiral into uncontrollable love. It never did. Even so, a few weeks ago, Virgil was a person he tried to steer away from at all costs, but now here he was, carving him and Virgil’s initials on the bark of nearly every tree he came across. It was all happening so fast, even for him, and he wasn’t sure why, just that it was and he trusted his heart, no matter how many times it had let him down.

It wasn’t as if this crush was one of his most insane ones, though. At least Virgil was gay. And he loved Disney! What more could Roman possibly ask for?! Of course, he had asked himself the same question about countless others he had developed interests in, but Virgil wasn’t like them. Virgil wasn’t like anybody. 

“There you are, buddy! Look at you, looking as handsome as ever!” Patton laughed, sinking Roman back into reality, stepping in front of Virgil and brushing out his hair with his hands, ignoring Virgil’s angry slapping.

“Stop it, Patton! I was just taking a nap! What do you want?” he growled, rubbing at his tired eyes when Patton had stopped trying to fix him up. Patton grinned, moving out of the way so that Virgil could finally see Roman, one elbow leaning on the counter and an arrogant smirk on his stupidly smug face.

“Ah, geez,” Virgil grumbled, letting out a deep breath and stepping in front of the register. “I didn’t think we’d be getting anymore tonight. What do you want, Princey?”

“To talk to you,” Roman said, and the two ignored Patton’s squeak of happiness from behind them. Virgil huffed, shooting Patton a glare as his face flushed. He whispered something to him, something Roman couldn’t hear, and Patton rolled his eyes. Patton whispered back, looking more stern. 

“Oh, forget it! If he doesn’t need to order something, I’m going to go back to my nap,” Virgil exclaimed, about to march back to the Employee Room. But Patton grabbed him by the shoulders, looking at him with an arched brow.

“Oh, no you’re not, mister! We have a customer and I need to go! So you have to take care of him,” Patton said, letting go of Virgil, and then he started to gather his things with a hum.

“What?!” Virgil shrieked, looking back at Roman, who has been eyeing them quizzically. “Where could you possibly need to go? Your shift doesn’t end for another hour!”

Patton winked. “I know, kiddo. Do me a favor and lock up for me, okay?” He hands him the keys, and Virgil is too astonished to say much. He stuffed the keys in his hoodie pocket but frowned at Patton anyways.

“I can’t believe you,” Virgil breathed.

Patton didn’t respond, instead leaning into Virgil’s ear and says in the most suggestive voice he could muster, “Have fun.”

Then he giggled innocently, nodding at Roman and a frozen Virgil, and exited with a hop in his step. Roman didn’t try and question the hushed exchange he just witnessed between the two, and leaned a bit more on the counter. Virgil stayed stiff, back to him, before taking a gulp of air and turning to his friend slowly.

Trying to channel his anger from being awoken from his peaceful nap and putting all thoughts of Patton out of his head, Virgil glowered at Roman and crossed his arms. What did he say he wanted again? Virgil somehow remembers he said he wanted to talk to him. Talk? About what? Was he already ready to stop being friends? Damn, he told Patton! Roman still hated him! Oh, God, and he told him all that crap about his past and he couldn’t take it back-!

Virgil felt his breath shortening, and Roman must’ve noticed this because his charming smile was knocked off of his face, replaced by a concerned look. “Virgil?! Are you okay?! Are you having a panic attack?” Roman cried, trying in vain to jump over the counter to assist him, but Virgil just shook his head.

“J-just tell me what you want to talk about. I hate anticipation,” Virgil said, voice shaky, his fidgety hands pulling at the strings of his hoodie.

“Oh, don’t be nervous, love!” Roman cried hastily, letting the term of endearment slip past his lips, and Virgil was too busy looking at him with big, fearful eyes to notice. “I- I just wanted to hang out! Honest.” Then he offered Virgil a small, assuring smile, and Virgil’s breath started to even out again until he grinned back.

“Fine. I’ll get us some coffee, and... yeah...” Virgil nodded to the tables behind Roman, who understood and made his way to one of the booths. He always liked the booths at The Mind Palace, they weren’t tight and uncomfortable like the ones at other restaurants, leaving plenty of room for a table and for people to slide in and out with ease. Roman relaxed against the plush leather of the seat, and soon Virgil came around the corner with two steaming cups in his hands.

He sat himself across from Roman, handed his friend one of the cups, and then took a sip from the other. Roman watched Virgil take a breath after putting down his cup, his mouth doing that thing that Roman loved where one side stretched noticeably farther than the other, outlining the line beneath his lip that probably came with frowning too much, like a scowl but not quite. Virgil caught Roman staring at him, cocking a brow at his dramatic friend who only looked back with a swooning gaze.

And for the first time in awhile, things were awkward between the two of them, the air filled with intense quiet and both were too scared to even twitch as they drank. Roman silently doubted Virgil was seeing through his antics properly, most likely thinking this was just the way Roman acted with everyone. At this point, that fact couldn’t be exactly wrong, but it made Roman squirm. He wanted to show Virgil what he thought about him without telling him what he—you know—thought about him.

With anyone else, Roman probably would have professed his love in a large declaration after serenading them with bouquets of roses and maybe even reciting romantic poems to them. And he’d done it before. But again, Virgil wasn’t just anyone else. He was the weirdest, most reserved and darkest guy Roman had ever fallen for, that was for sure, but by far the most amazing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist, or Logan, to see that.

So Roman needed to take this little by little, and it’d be painful, but for Virgil he’d do it. He’d do anything for Virgil. Now if only there was a way he could show that without having to freak the boy out by telling him he already loved him after a number of weeks of morning talks while ordering coffee, light arguments in Advanced Choir, and two Disney marathons. Roman opened his mouth, ready to say something witty, but Virgil beat him to it, though his choice of conversation was much sadder.

“Roman, I miss my mom,” he whimpered, his face trained on his coffee cup in his hands so that his magenta bangs fall over his eyes, and Roman is unsure if he should be finding that incredibly hot or depressing. He focused on the latter, reaching across the table and softly putting a hand on Virgil’s.

Virgil knows he should move, or at the very least, shut up. Parts of him told him he wasn’t stable enough for this, to be hanging out with Roman. He nearly had a panic attack when he said he just wanted to talk to him. But it really wasn’t that hard to remind himself he was safe with Roman. And that was the problem, Virgil realized as he bit on his thumbnail, trying to avoid Roman’s eyes that threatened to meet his, Roman studying him for a reason Virgil didn’t want to know.

He often felt too safe around Roman, as if his guard was falling down. His mind slipped back to what Patton had asked him, about whether or not he liked Roman. Virgil looked up from beneath his hair to the taller boy in front of him, who gave a warm smile that said he could continue talking whenever he felt ready. Virgil didn’t even begin to process the pink-colored hue splashed across Roman’s cheeks.

Roman was pretty, something Virgil would never admit to himself until now that he’s gotten around to knowing him. His dimples, his lips, curled into a smile more often than not, and his eyes. What was so special about him that his eyes were able to shine anywhere and everywhere? As much as it scared Virgil, he knew he would follow those hazel irises anywhere, even to the ends of the earth if it meant keeping that strange feeling in his chest there.

Virgil clutched his shirt with a gasp, suddenly realizing his pounding heart and Roman’s head shot up. Before he could ask what was wrong, Virgil made a dismissive motion with his hand, giving Roman a weak smile. One second, he was grieving randomly over his dead mother, and now he was trying to calm himself down because he thought Roman was suddenly handsome? What was wrong with him tonight? Must’ve been the nap. 

“I’m sorry,” Roman murmured, “...about your mother, I mean.” Virgil shrugged.

“I didn’t know her too well. She was a painter, like Aunt Val, and she couldn’t cook for shit,” Virgil recalled. “But that’s it really. Doesn’t keep me from feeling terrible about what happened, though.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know... still hurts, though.”

They’re quiet for a second, and Roman’s hand releases Virgil’s so that he can lift his coffee to his lips, and then Virgil smirked.

“Nice costume, Prince Charming,” he said teasingly, looking Roman up and down with a smirk, both eager to make fun of him and change the subject. “Do you play dress up often?” Roman scoffed, face reddening at the mention of him wearing his outfit for Winter Wonderland, a white shirt with prince-like decals, a red sash, white dress pants, and brown boots covered in fake snow. “I didn’t know your character was a prince,” Virgil noted, more serious now. 

“Oh, he is,” Roman said, tugging at the red sash with a smug smirk. “When his father dies, he’s the one that takes over the kingdom-slash-village before the snowstorm hits, meaning all the responsibility of his citizens’ deaths are on him. And, just to add to the drama, he is illegally dating a peasant, which is, for some reason, a crime in that kingdom.” Virgil hums, playing with the rim of his coffee cup absently. 

“Although, I’m not supposed to be drinking or eating in this thing, especially since it’s white,” Roman added with a wink. “So don’t tell anyone about this. I’m only wearing it because I rushed right over here to see you after rehearsal.” His voice was more flirtatious than usual as he said the last sentence, and this time Virgil noticed, nearly toppling over in surprise as he strained himself so that a blush wouldn’t appear on his face.

That damn voice! Virgil grimaced at Roman, angry at him for making him feel... well, feel. If he was being perfectly honest, this wasn’t the first time Roman had done this to him, and he knew he immediately he needed revenge as his chest burned with determination. This dumb jerk has already toyed with his emotions one too many times.

“Sure, I won’t tell anyone,” Virgil said, trying to keep his voice casual. “You look really cute in it anyways.”

Virgil wanted to laugh as Roman almost choked on his coffee, setting it down as his face become as red as his stupid sash. But Virgil contained himself, instead looking at Roman with a cocky grin, and Roman knew what he was doing. He was about to allow a feeling of false hope sweep over him, but then Roman looked at Virgil’s eyes, lit up with the same fiery competitiveness. Roman could easily recognize it from how many times that same shine had reached his own eyes, and he smirked at Virgil, silently accepting the challenge he was offering. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Roman cooed. “I don’t exactly have a library card, but do you mind if I check you out?” Virgil tried not to appear flustered by this, but Roman saw the beginnings of a blush blooming on the sides of his freckled cheeks. 

“Sorry, Princey, but I’m not available for checking out,” Virgil said, racking his brain for a nice comeback. He didn’t spend his free time looking up snarky pick-up lines, mind you. “I belong in a certain place—maybe you’ve heard of it—called hell. You know, the one with all the super hot flames and shit? That heat is nothing compared to how hot you are, though.” Virgil snickered as Roman’s face flushed, and he felt actually proud of himself, but also terrified. Since when was he this brave? Since when did he flirt to guys like Roman? Since when did he flirt?!

He didn’t have time to think this over as Roman went on, “Oh yeah? Well, if you were ground coffee, you’d be Espresso ‘cause you’re so fine.” Virgil huffed, leaning forward slightly as Roman does the same so that they can almost feel the air surrounding them drawing them closer.

“If I’m coffee, then you must be a campfire since you’re so hot and I want s’more,” Virgil said, wishing he could cringe at his own cheesiness, but it was the only thing he could come up with.

“Have you been to the doctor lately, ‘cause you need some more Vitamin Me,” Roman responded, and Virgil frowned.

“That wasn’t a flirt... that was a pun,” he said as some unknown force dragged his head closer to Roman so that their faces are only inches apart.

“Oh? And s’more wasn’t?” Roman asked playfully, his eyes dragging down to the sight of Virgil’s soft lips not far from his. Virgil noticed, so he got up as fast as he could, grinning at Roman and taking his empty cup with him and Roman’s too as he began to head over to behind the counter.

“I’m going to get a refill,” he explained quickly, but in his mind he was forming up the most hilarious plan to winning this stupid battle. As he walked away, he made sure to accidentally-on-purpose drop his empty cup fairly loudly on the ground. Roman turned around at the sound, just in time to watch Virgil bend over to pick it up. 

Roman immediately regretted it. Virgil wore black, skin-tight jeans everyday, but it wasn’t until now did Roman actually get a good view of the boy’s rear end in them. Roman’s stomach flipped at the sight of Virgil’s butt like that, and he cursed to himself and his suddenly aching heart. So, Virgil was enchanting, mysterious, and on top of it all, he had a good ass. Roman really needed to make a list of these things at this point.

It didn’t take long for Virgil to refill his and Roman’s coffee, and when he came back he chuckled at Roman’s red face. He stood next to his seat, but decided to hand Roman his coffee personally. Virgil leaned over Roman, so close to him Roman felt his hot breath on his neck as Virgil tilted his head so that he was whispering in the most alluring way possible into his friend’s ear. 

“Nice and hot.”

Roman snorted, then said coolly as if he wasn’t trembling, absolutely desperate for Virgil to take the extra inch and let their lips meet, “No, thanks. I think I found something much hotter right here.”

Virgil frowned. He can’t let Roman win, but what else he could do? He’d already tempted him with his ass, which was admittedly a bit low, even for him. In any other situation, Virgil would have backed out now, having at least a little dignity to spare unlike the pompous man sitting right in front of him. But Roman was doing things to him, and right now the only thoughts going through his head were about winning this unspoken competition and getting it over with. Then an idea hit him, and it was incredibly risky but Virgil could feel Roman breaking and it’s just the extra push he needs. Virgil will win for sure.

Virgil stared down at Roman's hazel eyes clouded with desire, and he smiled slowly. Then, he did something that made Roman’s face become completely engulfed with a fiery blush. Virgil slipped into the booth, sitting on Roman’s lap. Then, he jerked his head forward so that their lips were technically touching, but only the tips drifting over each other and Roman sucked in a breath. 

He wanted to move, to slide his own arms around Virgil’s waist and hold him and kiss him and hurry up and put his damn tongue in his mouth already, but just as he was thinking this, Virgil got up with a smirk, his own face sweaty and pink, but not nearly as much as Roman’s.

“Alright, Princey,” he breathed. “I think I win.”

He took his coffee, saluted Roman, and disappeared into the Employee Room to enjoy the last few minutes of his shift alone, but Roman was too frozen in shock to care. He put a hand to his head, pinched himself, and realized he wasn’t dreaming. 

Virgil had really just flirted with him... and teased him. What a bastard. What a freaking cute, beautiful bastard. Roman smiled, grabbing his coffee and walking out of the café with even more joy than when he had first went in, even if he lost their little contest, because now he had reason to believe.

Believe that getting Virgil to fall in love with him may not be so hard after all.


	5. The Way the Flower Blooms

Virgil was having the weirdest day, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was all Roman’s fault. At least, he was fairly certain it was. First, he woke up in the middle of a crazy dream in which he was flying on top of a cloud, and he was pretty sure Roman was there somewhere too, clinging to him as he laughed that giant laugh of his. He didn’t really remember most of it. And if it wasn’t odd enough, Virgil never really dreamed, unless they were nightmares about his mom.

When he got to school, he couldn’t get work done in study hall for once, doodling clouds in the corners of his notebook, and he absently added a heart in the middle of a cluster of them. He didn’t know why, he tried convincing himself it was just because he was tired, but then for fun, he wrote V + R inside of it. 

Virgil automatically slammed it close with wide eyes, clutching onto his wrist with panic. What was he doing?! He was acting like a thirteen-year-old girl with a big, fat crush! Virgil hissed, and after asking if he could be excused, ran to one of the bathrooms and locked himself in a stall. 

Oh no. No, no, no, no. He had absolutely not fallen for that dumbass Roman Prince. He was only messing around last night. He didn’t mean it; he didn’t think he meant it. But now his heart was pounding inside him, and for some reason, Virgil didn’t think it was because of a panic attack. He stepped out of the stall and leaned over one of the sinks and looked in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed, his body shaking slightly with each pant that escaped his black lips. 

He just needed to calm down, remind himself of who he was, who Roman was. His friend. He didn’t like-like him, and Virgil didn’t like-like Roman. That was stupid, that was preposterous. Virgil felt himself slowly go back to normal, replaying the story of nine years ago and what love had done to his mother and how much he hated soulmates and romance because of it. 

Virgil sighed, not daring to splash water on his face in fear he’d smudge his makeup, so instead dabbed a few drops around his forehead. He looked at his face in the mirror once more, letting his eyes stare into the ones in his reflection. It’s funny, he imagined what Roman’s eyes looked like so much he almost forgot what his own looked like. They weren’t hazel, that was for sure. They were more of a dark brown, with specks of gold at the edges. 

They were like his mom’s. He had her thin hair, her scrawny limbs, the same crook in her plump nose. He looked a great deal more like her, but he had Anthony’s chin, pale skin, and cold, sharp eyebrows. Sometimes he would catch himself tilting his head when looking at himself, seeing how in one second he’d look more like Anastasia and the next more like his sorry excuse for a father. 

Virgil sneered at himself and his stupid reflection and stomped out of the bathroom. Soulmates were for the weak. They were for people that still believed in happy endings. For people who were too blinded by their fantasies to see reality. They were for people like Roman, not Virgil, and that was that.

-

The afternoon sky was a mixture of colors, ranging from magenta to a yellow-gold tone that hushed the small bit of clouds to puffy balls that hung there. Virgil and his seven-year-old self were sitting at the coffee table in his family’s living room, mumbling some poem he had memorized from his book and coloring harshly on a piece of paper. Anastasia was next to him on the couch, and she looked up from her painting to smile at him. That smile quickly turned to a frown when she saw what he was coloring on his paper, however, and she looked at him with wary eyes. 

“Virgie, sweetie... what are you drawing?” she asked him softly, adjusting her glasses. Virgil looked up at his mother innocently, at the fresh bruise on her right cheek that she claimed was there because she had fallen down the stairs when she had awoken from bed that morning. In a few years, her son would know the truth.

For now, Virgil simply answered, “Dirt.” Anastasia blinked and Virgil proceeded to rub his brown crayon down on the paper, the dark-colored crumbs surrounding his hands as he pressed down with all his might.

It was from a reoccurring dream he had again the night before, but that was too hard to try and explain to his mom. Virgil couldn’t even explain it to himself; there was a ground made of dirt that stretched out as far as he could see, and suddenly tombstones would fall from the gloomy sky and land on top of the wet soil. Eventually, the graves would begin getting closer and closer to him until one landed right in front of face. And right when he was about to read the name printed across it’s cool gray surface, he would wake up, sweating and panting.

Thankfully, Virgil didn’t have to try and explain this, mainly because at this point Anastasia learned not to question her son and his weird antics. So she bit her lip, staying quiet, and watched the child color his paper with ferocity. She smiled slightly, feeling a warmth in her heart she’d never thought she’d feel watching her son almost abuse a sheet of paper. She loved Virgil with all of her heart, and she reached over to card a hand through his hair.

He frowned to her after a few seconds of this, making a quizzical look, and she was about to ask if he was okay when he blurted, “Mom, what’s a soulmate?”

It was an unexpected question from Anastasia’s son if there ever was one, and she opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “A soulmate, Virgie, is the person you were meant to be with-“

“I know!” Virgil almost screamed with frustration, and then looked at his mother with a pout. How could he not, when that’s all the kids at school would talk about? All the teachers, the T.V shows he watched, the Disney movies he played on repeat. That’s all they ever talked about. 

“I know, Mommy,” Virgil said again, more calmly this time. “But like- what’s my soulmate like?”

“I- I don’t know,” Anastasia said, then pulled her son up into her lap, letting him curl around her and breathe in her cinnamon scent. “But I do know your soulmate is going to love you Virgil, just as much as Mommy.”

Virgil looked down, dejected. “What if I don’t love my soulmate?”

“You will,” she answered curtly.

“Is Dad your soulmate?” Virgil asked, and the question almost sounded like a challenge.

Anastasia looked at the floor, her chestnut eyes scanning the carpet as if the answers all lied there. “I- I don’t think so, baby.”

“Why not?” Virgil’s little pudgy face crinkled with confusion. “Don’t you love each other?” Anastasia kissed his wrinkled forehead as gently as she could manage.

“We did. Once,” Anastasia sighed, and she clung to her son a bit tighter as if he was the anchor keeping her from floating away and she burst out in tears. “But that’s the thing about life, sometimes. You never meet the one.”

It was then that they heard footsteps marching up to the front door and Anastasia hurriedly told her son to run upstairs and take his beautiful drawing with him. Virgil did as he was told, but did not go all the way to his room as he was supposed to. Instead, he hung around the top of the stairs, curling himself against the wall there as he listened to the sounds of his father walking into their house.

Anastasia asked something to him, too quiet for Virgil to hear, and Anthony yelled back, something about she should mind her own business with much more profanity included in his screaming. His speech was slurred, and Anastasia started sobbing through their arguing. Then there was the loud shatter of glass, making Virgil clamp a hand over his mouth as his heart speed up in fear, another noise he couldn’t quite place, and later the slamming of a door again.

The next morning, Anastasia had a new bruise on her other cheek.

 

-

Virgil replayed this exact memory as he went into Choir class that day, stuffing his hands in his jeans and trying to contain his nervousness. Normally, he’d be excited to see Roman and tease him. But this was different. Seriously, what was he thinking?! Roman was the most romance-thirsty person he’d ever met, and he thought he could just flirt with him like that without regretting it somewhat? But they were just friends. Roman knew that, and the thought calmed Virgil for about a second as he entered the familiar room. 

That was, of course, until Virgil spotted Roman, who saw him at the same time and gave him a gentle smile, followed by some eyebrow wiggling. Virgil almost left right then, but forced himself to walk the rest of the distance to his seat. Maybe Roman was just being funny again. Virgil forced a smile into his face and laughed as he approached Roman.

“Hi, Ro-“

“Hey, babe,” Roman practically purred, watching Virgil sit down with an intensely adoring eyes. Virgil squirmed. Roman used the word babe as a platonic term... right?

“It- it was nice talking to you last night,” Virgil said casually, putting his stuff down beside him. He avoided looking at Roman, trying to convince himself the other was staring at him in the most friendly, non-romantic way possible.

“Oh, it was,” Roman cooed, placing a hand on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil would have shrieked if the bell hadn’t rung just then, and Roman’s hand pulled back as Mrs. Gomez clapped her hands excitedly.

She greeted everyone before running through attendance with her usually cheery smile. Then she skipped over to the piano, already starting to play the piece they were working on last class. The first half of class was fine, and Virgil was calmed by closing his eyes and enjoying the sound of his voice singing the notes of the song he loved dearly. 

“What A Wonderful World” wasn’t a song that was typically found being sung by a high school Advanced Choir, but Mrs. Gomez thought it would be a sweet addition to their array of selections they would be singing for the competition later that semester. And Virgil didn’t argue. 

It was one of his favorites, which was odd coming from an emo, but only because it was one of Anastasia’s favorites. While Aunt Valerie was more of a portraits person, Anastasia loved to create scenic views and landscapes, and the sound of Louis Armstrong always put her in the mood to do so. So Virgil was very close to the song, and he even played it add the end of her funeral. 

At some point, Mrs. Gomez needed to work separately with the sopranos, and Virgil used the break to sip his water. A note was shoved in his direction, and he looked at Roman’s playful face with a grimace. He opened up the folded piece of paper quickly, reading the words scribbled in red pen to himself with stern eyes. 

‘When’s our first date gonna be, Hot Topic?’

Virgil wanted to crumble it up right then and there. He could see himself doing it too, and tossing it right into that trash can. His worst suspicions were true after all. Roman had a huge, gigantic crush on him. And it was all his own motherfucking fault. Virgil swiftly grabbed a black pen and scrawled something under Roman’s words, throwing the paper back to the boy. 

‘Never.’

Well that made Roman’s heart drop. What did he mean never?

‘What?’

Virgil huffed when the note was returned to him, and wrote his next response even faster.

‘I was just messing with you last night, Princey.’

Roman sighed. He knew he wasn’t. Maybe when he first started out it he was, but Roman saw the way Virgil looked at him when he was sitting on his lap. He wanted him just as much he did. He just didn’t know it yet. 

‘Let me take you out tonight. Just once.’

Virgil almost laughed.

‘In your dreams.’

‘Please.’

But before Roman could hand back the paper, Mrs. Gomez snatched it from his hands. “I would appreciate it if you don’t pass notes during my class, Mr. Hernandez and Mr. Prince,” she said, ripping the note into pieces with a frown. 

Then she went back to practicing with the sopranos, and Virgil kept quiet. Roman didn’t attempt talking to him again until the bell rang, and he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Please, Virgil,” Roman said, voice tight and pleading. “I know you’re afraid of love. I know. But I’ll take things slow for you, I promise. You’re so amazing, I just couldn’t live with myself if I never got the chance to be yours for at least one night. Just one night, Virgil. Please.”

The two were frozen for a moment, letting the sea of students exiting the classroom pass them on their way to their next class. And then Virgil shrugged Roman off without another word on the matter. 

And Roman watched him go.

-

Virgil grabbed another mug and bathed it with his soapy towel, mumbling the lyrics to some Fall Out Boy song that was stuck in his head as he worked. Usually it was Patton that did the cleaning on their shifts while Virgil handled the register (a way of helping his social skills, Patton claimed), but the teen was avoiding a certain someone. It had been about two weeks since the night Virgil had sat in Roman’s lap in the booth in the front of the café, and everyday Roman had come in, asking to talk to Virgil before ordering something when Patton said Virgil was busy.

Virgil had told Patton what had happened, how he meant it as a joke and he was only trying to win, and for whatever reason his friend decided to help him out. But whenever Roman left, Patton would come scrambling to wherever Virgil was, begging him to go talk to his friend, and Virgil would just shake his head and go on another day without saying a word to him. 

But this time, Patton stormed into the back room, his iconic dad-face already telling Virgil what was about to happen.

“You’re killing that poor boy, Virgil!” Patron scolded in a very parenting tone. 

“I don’t care, Patton,” Virgil droned, focusing on a part of the cup that didn’t want to wash. “I hope you told Roman to piss of this time. Maybe he’d finally get the hint.”

“I didn’t,” Patton said with clenched teeth. “He’s still here.”

Virgil’s eyes blew wide. “What?! What do you mean he’s still here?”

“I don’t know, Virge, but he didn’t leave this time. He’s sitting in a booth, looking like a wounded puppy,” Patton explained. “Kiddo, you need to go talk to him this time. He’s absolutely miserable! And he left you a big bouquet of flowers, which is such an awfully sweet thing. I can’t remember the last time Logan got me flowers...”

“Patton!” Virgil said, snapping his friend back into the situation at hand. He was feeling more and more anxious by the second, his lungs threatening to give out inside his thudding chest. “I need you to tell him to go. Please, Patton. For me.”

“Kiddo, I’m already doing what’s best for you, and that’s getting you to go talk to him!” Patton snapped. “At least go thank him for the flowers. They’re so pretty, really!”

Virgil groaned, dropping to the floor and curling up there. His body was shaking, and he knew he had nothing to be nervous about, but he felt an attack coming in anyways. “P-Patton, I don’t want to.”

Patton sat by him, rubbing a sympathetic hand on his back. “I know, Virgil.”

“No. No you don’t!” Virgil almost cried. “You say you know, Roman says he knows, but you guys just don’t. Or else you wouldn’t be forcing me to go talk to him! I just can’t, Patt. Roman means too much to me now. I might like him that way, I might not. I honestly don’t know anymore, and it’s scaring the hell out of me! But what if I do fall in love with him and we start dating? And- and we start kissing, and we get married, and we have a little house and a little kid, and then what?! Reality kicks in, Patton, that’s what! All this love bullshit will catch up to us just like it caught up to Anastasia! I have a bubble, Patt, and anything I do can be done inside my familiar bubble!”

“But- but what if he’s...?”

“My soulmate?” Virgil finished, finally saying the word that had been hanging in the air every since their talk started. “You don’t think I haven’t thought of that? Patton, if Roman’s my soulmate then I’d ask Aunt Val to pack all of our things up right now so we could flee the country.” Virgil sighed, taking a breather from his ranting.

“I just couldn’t hurt Roman like that. It’s better to just avoid him completely than break his heart up close,” Virgil said, and he looked up at Patton, who brushed the bangs away from his forehead. 

“Virge, I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Patton consoled. “And I don’t know who Anastasia is, or why you’re so afraid of love, but I trust you in whatever you decided to do.” Then Patton stood up, going over to the door with a light smile. “I just want you to know that Roman told me to tell you that he loved you. That’s all.”

Virgil watched Patton leave, then looked down at the floor with a scowl. His mind was reeling between two different voices, one part of him telling him to go out and tell Roman he was sorry, and another part saying he should just stay there and hide away for forever.

A few minutes later, when Patton came back to pick up the clean dishes from Virgil, he found his friend standing up again and looking at him with a regretful face. “I- I’ll talk to him,” Virgil said, quiet and sheepish. “But only if he waits around until later tonight when everyone is gone.” 

Patton smiled and nodded, resisting the urge to hug his friend and instead stuck to taking the dishes from him and thanking him. 

-

It was almost at the end of Patton and Virgil’s shift when Virgil finally went out to the counter to see Roman there at the booth—the same one they were teasing each other at two weeks ago—typing at his laptop and rubbing his tired eyes occasionally. It didn’t take long for him to look up and see Virgil there and perk up, beaming happily at the sight of his dark, angsty crush. Virgil grumbled something under his breath, walking over and sliding himself into the seat across from Roman. 

“Virgil! I got something for you,” Roman said cheerily, shutting off his laptop and taking out the bouquet from next to him. It really was pretty, mixed with different kinds of sunflowers, roses, and tulips. Virgil took it, blushing only slightly. 

“Thanks. But Roman-“

“I know I’m not everything you’ve ever wanted,” Roman started. “Trust me... gothic, anxious emo didn’t really sound like my type either until I met you.” Roman reached across the booth and took Virgil’s smaller hands into his. “But just let me take you out. Once. And if you don’t like it, I swear I’ll back off and we can go back to being just friends. No awkwardness necessary.”

Virgil opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He looked Roman up and down, his earnest smile, the glow in blushing cheeks. Patton was right. Roman was a man that fell hard in love, and now he liked him. How long could he keep pushing Roman away like this?

“I don’t know, Ro...”

Roman hesitantly lifted one of his hands to his mouth and then kissed it gently, and Virgil let him with a sigh. What if this ruined their friendship? Granted, it wasn’t a very long friendship and at this point Virgil should be immune to those kinds of things, but he knew Roman wasn’t. If they got together and broke up—which he knew would happen if they did—Virgil couldn’t see them remaining friends, and that could do things to Roman he didn’t really want to witness. He could seriously hurt him.

“I don’t expect you to know. But can’t you see it, Virgil? This could be our fairytale,” Roman said in a hushed voice. 

“Fairytales don’t exist,” Virgil growled.

“I don’t care, Virge. You could be mine, and I could be yours. I think-“

He stopped, flushed, and looked down. Virgil eyed him curiously, breathing slowing. “What?” Virgil asked in a choked up voice. But, goddammit, he already knew what.

“I think you’re my soulmate.”

Virgil let go of Roman’s hands as if they were on fire. “Yeah?” he snapped. “How many people have you told that to, Princey?”

“None,” Roman answered quietly, looking back up at Virgil and a tear ran down one of his cheeks. “I’ve like people, I’ve fallen in love with people, but Virgil you have to trust me on this, I’ve never thought anyone was my soulmate. I even dated this guy, Jonathan, for like, three years.” Roman hiccuped and smiled crookedly. 

“But I broke up with him. He made me happy, so, so happy, but he wasn’t the one for me, and I think we both knew that. I still cried for a while afterwards, but that’s beside the point. I look at you, Virgil, and I see the reason why I broke up with him. I’ve never met anyone quite like you. You’re smart, you’re gorgeous, and while you’re not the kindest barista in the world, you mean well. These past couple weeks have gotten me to think about it, and I honestly believe there is no better person for me than you.”

Virgil stared at him with wide eyes, his purple bangs flopping over his eyes. No one had ever spoken so lovingly about him. Not Anastasia, not Aunt Valerie, not even Patton. Virgil’s mouth was dry, he couldn’t form words, he just put a hand to his chest and feel his pounding heart. Then he started sobbing, out of nowhere, and Roman climbed into his seat beside him, pressing him into his chest and hugging him.

Roman made small, soothing sounds as Virgil sat in his lap and he gathered him in the embrace, fisting the back of his bomber tightly. “I’m unlovable,” he cried, muffled by Roman’s white button-up shirt.

“No. No you’re not, Virge,” Roman said. “I love you. I swear on all the horns of unicorns I do, and I’m going to keep on loving you for as long as you’ll allow me to. I promise, I promise, I promise.” Virgil sobbed again and Roman held him impossibly closer.

“I’m going to make you miserable,” Virgil warned. “We’re going to argue so much, and you’re going to hate me again.”

Roman shushed him. “No I’m not. I could never hate you. I love you, Virgil, and I don’t care how many times I have to say it in order for you to believe it.”

Virgil leaned away, looking back into those watery hazel eyes again. “Ro- Roman. I’m afraid,” he said. 

“Why are you afraid, my dear?”

“That you’re right. And I was wrong,” Virgil said and squeezed his eyes shut. “Wrong that I don’t need love. Wrong that I’m incapable of romance. Wrong... wrong...” Virgil mumbled the word repeatedly, almost lost in thought. Roman twirled a finger into his knotted hair, and Virgil hummed drowsily, sniffling as he returned to his senses. 

“I like you, Roman. A lot,” Virgil said with finality. Roman’s face melted, no longer looking crestfallen, and he held Virgil’s own face between his hands. 

Virgil tried to grip onto what little self-control he had left. Maybe if he turned back now, he wouldn’t have to face as many consequences later. He could pretend he never said he liked Roman, pretend he never even met him. But all he could do was look at Roman; his pink face, his blissful smile, the way his red-brown hair curled up around his head, framing his face perfectly. He was too perfect, he was a fantasy. Virgil hated it, but, after a lifetime of avoiding it, he could use a little fantasy.

So when Roman started leaning in closer to him, his eyes dropping to look at his black-coated lips, Virgil didn’t push him back or run away. He leaned in too, looking at Roman’s own lips, full and tempting. Roman’s thumbs traced circles on the sides of Virgil’s face, the two pausing there, only an inch away from each other as if making sure they had the other’s consent. 

Then Virgil threw himself forward, bumping into Roman’s forehead as he did so in his attempt to press his lips to his. It was uncomfortable, and Virgil’s teeth clashed against Roman’s. He was ready to just lean back and call it quits then, but then Roman chuckled and grabbed the back of his head gingerly, tilting it at just the right angle to give him better access of Virgil’s mouth. 

All discouragement Virgil had was suddenly thrown out the window as Roman began sucking on his lips, desperately and softly at the same time. Virgil tried not to smile, kissing him back now with enthusiasm. Eventually, Roman’s hands were threading into his hair and Virgil was brave enough to slide his arms around Roman’s neck as he pressed against Roman’s coffee-tasting lips carefully. They felt so amazing in between his own, and- oh geez, was that Roman’s tongue? Fuck, that felt good.

It was heavenly, it was warm, it was making his body feel lighter by the second, and it ended way too soon. Vigil sighed into Roman’s mouth as the other slowly leaned back, smiling at Virgil, who still had his eyes shut tight. “Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman asked, voice hoarse. Virgil shivered and his eyes fluttered open, and a whole new heat spread through him like sickly sweet honey as he took in the sight of Roman, lips swollen with traces of Virgil’s black lipstick smeared around them.

“Fine. Just dandy. I-“ Virgil said, then hissed. And he laughed, mostly to himself, and put a hand to his head. “I can’t believe I just did that. I’m sorry-“

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Let me finish,” Virgil said, and sat against Roman so that his back was to his chest and he wrapped Roman’s arms around his middle. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that earlier. That felt... amazing, Roman.”

Why hadn’t he done that before again? All the reasons why Virgil had been scared of Roman and love in general escaped him in that moment. His mind was hazy, his chest full of a fuzzy, happy feeling that hadn’t been there in a long, long time. Roman pressed a kiss to the back of Virgil’s head. Then he snickered, and said, “You want to know something, Virge? I’ve come here nearly everyday since I’ve met you, and I don’t even like coffee.”

Virgil snorted, laying the side of his head against the crook of Roman’s neck with a dizzy smile. He realized then how those Disney movies and cliche high school films had gotten it all wrong. First kissed weren’t always short and perfect. His was long and messy, but it made Virgil feel loved regardless. 

And for once in his almighty life, Virgil felt himself completely relax, letting the sensation of Roman kissing his neck lull him to sleep.


	6. Criminal Mind

Roman took Virgil out on one date the very next night. They went to an art museum, which accidentally triggered some unpleasant memories with Virgil, who was only able to bear them for a little while before going into panic attack mode. Whilst apologizing profusely about the whole date being “ruined” and how he understood if Virgil never wanted to go out with him again, Roman took him to a dark poetry mic he found. It was much more Virgil’s style and he continuously had to tell Roman he was fine and that he didn’t hate him as they listened to tragic poems told by people that could have been Virgil’s long-lost siblings by their edgy appearances and brutal angst in their writing.

Virgil laughed all the way home when Roman was complaining loudly about all the dark poetry and how it was making him have an existential crisis, all jokingly, of course. In the end, it was the best Sunday night Virgil had ever had, even when Roman had forced him to go onstage and read something from that journal of his he always carried around with him in case inspiration strikes, which included when he went out on dates too apparently.

And Roman kept taking him out on date after date, never allowing Virgil to dwell on the anti-romantic thoughts he had carried inside his head for the majority of his life. Out of habit Virgil’s mind would remind him of what he had believed for so long, telling him he should stop this dating bullshit and go back to being nice and alone, but it was so hard to listen to those pessimistic thoughts again. Eventually Virgil found he couldn’t, not when Roman was always there constantly showering him with affection. 

They had those arguments still, like Virgil had predicted, but they were always petty and resolved quickly thanks to Roman’s newfound patience. Sometimes Virgil would even try and remember a time when he hated Roman, but he couldn’t. His days were too occupied with Roman carrying him around bridal style, be it through hallways at school or the streets of town, visitations at The Mind Palace that usually ended up with them kissing in the Employee Room, and feeling like the most utterly loved person on the face of the planet. 

Roman was a man of romance, there was no doubt about that, and he adjusted for Virgil, laying off grand gestures that could possibly scare Virgil away and settling for smaller ones that Virgil treasured. It was all so romantic, so un-Virgil, but the boy ate it up anyways. Roman spoiled him to no end, loved him to no end, and it honestly made Virgil wonder how he, a soul so formerly incapable of even thinking about romance, was able to score such a wonderful person such as Roman. 

It wasn’t until about a month into their relationship did Virgil invite Roman over to his own house for a date, however, and his boyfriend happily accepted. After all the nights Virgil had spent on Roman’s apartment, he figured it was only fair. And Aunt Valerie already knew about Roman, so she wouldn’t be to surprised with his visit.

Virgil had been telling Aunt Valerie everything about him and Roman’s relationship, recounting all their dates to her and all the cheesy, romantic things Roman would say to him. Then Aunt Val would squeal and hug Virgil, saying how happy she was that he finally found a guy that made him happy. She especially loved the time Virgil told her about how Roman had once worn his theatre costume to school and claimed to be Virgil’s Prince Charming before processing to literally sweep him off his feet—and to be honest, it was one Virgil’s favorites too.

Still, it was pretty head-spinning to think that he, Virgil Hernandez, was actually dating someone, and that someone was Roman Prince. Patton had definitely been happy, even allowing him to have this night off from work for Roman to come over, and Logan seemed to approve. But what made Virgil feel the most content was Roman never pressured him into saying he loved Roman and he thought he was his soulmate. And Virgil never thought about it, deciding it was better to just focus on enjoying his time as Roman’s boyfriend... for however long it would last.

Virgil was waiting by the kitchen counter for Roman to come by when Aunt Valerie skipped by him, pouring a glass of water for her nephew with a beaming smile. “I can’t wait to meet this boy of yours!” she said, watching Virgil sip the water. “He sounds like such a wonderful gentleman, and he’s been such a good influence on you, Virge. I see you’ve gotten rid of those eye bags recently.”

Virgil wanted to curse, suddenly realizing he forgot to put makeup on that morning just as the doorbell rang. He watched Aunt Val’s face become excited and she nearly ran for the door, and Virgil knew there was no time to be putting on any eyeshadow. He somehow managed to beat Aunt Val to the door, opening it for Roman, who was wearing by far his fanciest date outfit yet; his usual white-button up but with a red tie and black dress pants. Virgil wanted to snort, knowing Roman did this all because he was meeting Aunt Valerie for the first time, but Virgil also knew Aunt Val would’ve loved him, dress pants or no dress pants. 

“Oh! How handsome! Hello, Roman... right?” Aunt Valerie greeted, reaching over Virgil to shake Roman’s hand, who chuckled heartily.

“Roman Prince. Yup, that’s me. Boyfriend to your wonderful nephew here,” Roman added, winking at Virgil who tightly smiled back. 

Aunt Val nodded and looked down at Virgil. “Geez, V! I know I told you to make sure to bring a beautiful boy home for me someday, but I didn’t think he’d be this gorgeous!” she joked, and Roman waved dismissively. 

“Ah, I shouldn’t be talking, Ms. Hernandez,” Roman said. “Virgil never told me he had such a stunning Aunt either. I just might have to abandon him for you.”

Virgil stuck his tongue out at his boyfriend as Aunt Valerie laughed. “Oh, don’t be silly now. I’d recognize a gay man anywhere. It’s how I knew about Virgil’s own sexuality since he was a small little thing.” Roman smiled as Virgil rolled his eyes, letting his boyfriend inside as Aunt Val babbled on. Anyone would know, really, judging by how much Virgil would point out how cute boys looked back when he was young and had almost to no filter.

“I should know too. My own husband was gay, you know. But he was such a nice man, and my best friend, so we stayed married even after he figured out. I’m a widow now, and even if he was never my soulmate, I still cared him deeply,” she said, her voice becoming sad but she forced another smile onto her face. 

“I’m sorry for your loss. I bet he was a good man,” Roman said apologetically, taking Virgil’s hand into his as they walked more into the house. Aunt Valerie nodded, and then her phone went off, blasting out a Hamilton song Virgil wouldn’t be able to name even if his life depended on it, but Roman recognized it immediately.

This lead the two in to a whole other conversation about musicals, which Virgil just then realized they both had a very high interest in, and by the time they made it into the kitchen, Virgil was sure Aunt Valerie had completely fallen in love with his boyfriend, which was a good sign. Somehow, Virgil was able to break up their talk about the excellence that was Lin Manuel-Miranda to lead Roman upstairs to where his room was. 

Virgil opened the door and Dusk greeted him by trying to crawl out of his bedroom. “Whoa, girl,” Virgil said, grabbing his beloved cat and kissing her dark gray forehead lightly. “Why are you trying to escape?”

Roman chuckled at the display, and carefully stroked the fur on her back. “What’s her name?”

“Dusk,” Virgil whispered, snuggling into the cat in his arms, who accepted she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “Aunt Val let me get her because she read somewhere pets helped depression or something. We went to a pet shelter and she let me pick whatever I wanted. Dusk was still a kitten, all skinny and gray and was the obvious odd-one-out in her otherwise brunette litter, and I’m a sucker for outcasts.”

Dusk meowed, and Virgil released her so that she went scampering down the hall and down the stairs. “Aunt Val will take care of her,” Virgil said then lead Roman inside to his room. Virgil closed the door and immediately began taking Roman’s tie off of him. 

“Whoa. Slow down there, dear,” Roman said, his voice suggestive and Virgil scoffed.

“Shut up,” Virgil laughed. “You just look so formal. You’re making me look bad.”

Roman looked his boyfriend—gosh, yes, he could say that now—up and down with a soft smile. Virgil was wearing a big, black pullover and black pajama pants with tiny cartoons of spiders on them, his hair a mess of tangles, but Roman couldn’t help but kiss his nose affectionately.

“You look as handsome as ever,” Roman spoke sincerely, and Virgil rolled his eyes as he blushed. The emo took the tie, unfolding the ribbon and then hooked it around Roman’s neck, dragging him into a long, hard kiss against the lips.

“Thanks,” he said afterwards, and Roman giggled.

The two sat down on Virgil’s bed, Roman kicking off his shoes and babbling on about how Winter Wonderland was going to be ready to be performed in front of an actual audience in a couple months, meaning they were halfway through rehearsal time, his excitement buzzing off of him in heaps of energy that almost made Virgil smile. Almost.

“And what if you mess up your lines?” Virgil asked, more nervous for Roman’s performance than Roman actually was. “Or- or what if you fall on stage? Or-“

Roman hushed him, taking his hands into his own and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of his hands. He knew Virgil wasn’t trying to make him anxious and it was just his way of protecting him and looking out for his boyfriend. However, it wasn’t exactly helping Roman or Virgil’s stability just then, so Roman wrapped Virgil in his arms and dragged him back against the headboard of his bed.

“I’ll be fine, Virgil,” Roman said in that soothing voice of his as Virgil clung to him. “And you don’t have to come if you don’t want to… if you think it’ll give you an attack or something, I mean.”

Virgil shrugged, toying with the strings of his pullover, and Roman took the opportunity to look around his boyfriend’s room. While Virgil had only been able to be in Roman’s living room, he’d never seen his bedroom, and Roman found it as an honor to see his. What Roman assumed to be originally cream walls were covered with posters advertising different bands and movies, his floor littered with CDs and wadded up pieces of notebook paper, and his bookshelf crammed with dark poetry books and their thick spines. 

Everything was so Virgil, and Roman spotted the bundle of instruments he had stored in the corner beside his portable T.V.; there was an acoustic guitar, a ukulele, a keyboard. Virgil followed Roman’s eyes to the pile of them and he grinned. 

“I actually wrote something for you,” he grunted, moving out of Roman’s arms to grab the ukulele. “It’s still a little rough, though.” Virgil reached over to his desk, grabbing a paper from there that was slightly wrinkled, unfolding it and then reading it over with a frown.

“I’m sure it’s great,” Roman said, adjusting himself at the edge of the bed, watching Virgil with adoring eyes. Virgil felt one of his heartstrings being pulled at the sight and he smiled, something he did rarely but he couldn’t help but do every time he looked at Roman. Who gave him the right to be so cute anyways? 

Regardless, Virgil sighed and took the ukulele into his hands, plucking at the strings carefully and then looked up at his boyfriend. Roman gave him a thumbs-up in encouragement. 

“It’s called ‘Feelings’, by the way,” Virgil said. “It’s kinda cheesy, for my style anyways, but... yeah.” Then Virgil finally started playing, his hands moving about the strings gorgeously as Roman watched, hypnotized. 

“I don’t know what you see in me,  
Mr. Prince Charming.  
I have been the villain my whole life  
and am until the day I die.  
But with you, but with you,  
what else am I supposed to do  
other than be your stupid princess  
or damsel-in-distress?

I don’t know what mess I got myself into,  
all of this is so new, so new,  
and the things I want to do too.  
Like hold your face and kiss you  
or wake up to your face everyday.  
And I won’t walk away,  
but I’m still getting used to these... feelings.”

Virgil continued until he reached the end. Virgil’s eyes had closed some point during his singing, and when he opened them slowly, unsure and frankly scared of what his boyfriend’s reaction would be, Roman was staring at him agape. At first, Virgil didn’t know how to take it, but suddenly Roman flew to his feet, applauding wildly and whistling. Virgil snorted and put his ukulele down, and curled up against his lover’s chest.

“Virgil, that was beautiful,” Roman sighed, threading his fingers into Virgil’s hair as his boyfriend slid his arms around his waist, hugging tightly.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, muffled against Roman. “Like I said, songwriting is the only thing that... I don’t know, helps me express myself, I guess.” Virgil wanted to punch himself for how lame he sounded, but Roman hummed and smiled.

“It reminds me of Fiona,” Roman said. “She wanted to try out everything when she was younger. She signed up for all sorts of sports, tried volunteering at horse ranches, and one day she tried songwriting and singing. She was horrible at it, really, don’t get me wrong, but she enjoyed doing it anyways.” 

Virgil looked at him with an offended expression and Roman laughed. “No, no! You’re magnificent, my love! I’m saying you remind me of her because no matter how much she tried to write happy songs, they all came out dark. It’s part of the reason why we figured she has anxiety. She is a lot like you in many ways, actually. Although I’d say your more of an adorable punk while she’s more of the struggling goth.”

“What else did she try out?” Virgil asked with a bemused smile.

“Oh, lots of things. Swimming, academic competitions, dolphin training,” Roman said and paused to snicker. “I remember that one in particular. The dolphin didn’t really like her, and afterwards Fiona was crying. So Mom went and took her for ice cream. That’s always Mom’s go-to when we’re feeling bad. If ice cream didn’t fix it, nothing could.”

“My mom would take me to this lake,” Virgil said. “It wasn’t that big, kinda small actually, but I loved it. We’d skip stones or play games and maybe she’d even paint while I dipped my toes in the water.” Virgil sighed happily. “I still go to it sometimes, but I haven’t been in awhile. I assume it is still as gorgeous as ever.”

“I wish I could’ve met her,” Roman sighed. “Then I could thank her for the amazing son she helped bring into my life.”

Virgil snorted. “I am far from amazing, Princey.”

Roman paused, looking down at his boyfriend with a frown. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Virgil asked, genuinely confused.

“Talk negative about yourself. I mean, Virge, I know you have depression and whatnot, but you are so stupidly beautiful... How could you not see that?” Roman leaned away and cupped Virgil’s face between his hands, staring at Virgil softly.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I accepted pretty early on in life that the only two people that could possibly care about me was Aunt Val and Dusk, and the latter isn’t even a human being!” Virgil explained, a bit frustrated.

Roman hugged him again, and when he spoke his voice was muffled into Virgil’s pullover, but his boyfriend understood him. “I want to prove that wrong, Virge. I want to cherish you, and stay up kissing you, and feed you as I tell you how pretty you are. I love you so fucking much, Virgil, and it’s not hard to see why.”

“I... thank you,” Virgil said, clutching onto Roman a bit tighter. 

There was a silence filled with Roman twirling Virgil’s hair between his fingers and pressing gentle kisses against the top of his head. “Do you know how to play any Disney songs?” Roman asked suddenly, and Virgil grinned. 

“Of course.” Virgil picked back up the ukulele and sat down beside Roman on the edge of the bed. His small hands plucked the strings carefully, playing the opening notes to “Once Upon a Dream” and Roman smiled, concentrating on Virgil’s face and lips as he sang out the words. But he didn’t sing them with his rough, deep voice like Roman thought he would. He made the song sound actually prettier than Roman could ever imagine and he was astounded. 

Virgil eventually made it to the last verse, where Roman actually began singing with him, out of delight or habit he didn’t know. Virgil smiled at him but didn’t stop and soon the sound of their voices harmonizing filled the room. It was peaceful until the sang the last note that echoed until fading out completely. 

Immediately, Roman crashed into Virgil’s mouth once he was done, the kiss more passionate than most he had shared with Virgil, and his boyfriend let out a squeak of surprise.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, breaking away from him, his eyes remaining on Virgil’s lips. “I just... god, Virgil. I am so in love with you.” Virgil’s pulse quickened and he noticed how Roman was practically leaning over him, their faces not too far apart. 

“Oh, are you now?” Virgil said, voice purposely dropping down into a low tone that set Roman’s face on fire. Roman did love Virgil, as he had said, so much so that he knew the poor anxious teen wasn’t too fond of physical affection besides hand holding and light kisses every now and then. Even when they kissed at The Mind Palace, Roman controlled himself and stayed civil. In full honesty, their first kiss was the most heated thing they did together so far. But with the way Virgil looked, mouth spread open slightly and face tinted pink, Roman knew his restraint was breaking.

“Can I kiss you again, my love?” Roman asked. Virgil nodded and Roman smiled, pressing his lips against Virgil’s again. 

Virgil nearly felt himself swoon as Roman sucked harshly but affectionately against his mouth, and Roman took this as a good sign and let his tongue swipe against Virgil’s lower lip. Virgil allowed him to trail his tongue into his mouth, but froze as soon as Roman made a pleased moan. 

Roman noticed too, leaning away from Virgil with wide eyes. “I- Virgil, I’m sorry,” he apologized hastily. “We can stop. Yeah, we’ll stop. Okay. I’m sorry if I took that too far-“

Virgil shook his head though, hooking his arms around Roman’s neck. “No,” he whispered, and Roman watched, slightly shocked. “Roman... just kiss me, you idiot.”

Virgil couldn’t help the words from pouring out of his mouth. Desire had taken over him, and looking at Roman, he could see it had made its own impact on him as well. “Okay,” was all Roman said before kissing Virgil again. 

And there was no stopping them this time when Roman had leaned into Virgil all the way, pushing him down and back against the bed before carefully straddling his waist. Virgil felt his breath shorten and his mind start buzzing as Roman tangled his hands into his hair, rolling his body against his. Holy shit. All this because Virgil had sang a Disney song for him? He’d probably have to do that more often now that he was seeing the results. 

The courage that Virgil had in that moment almost scared him, especially when he hooked his legs around Roman’s hips. Roman released Virgil’s mouth with a pant, then started kissing trails down Virgil’s neck. And try as he might, Virgil couldn’t help but moan somewhat loudly. He felt his hands go from Roman’s neck down to the hem of his shirt, lifting it slowly and feeling the skin there, rubbing circles into Roman’s waist. Roman pauses to hum in response to the actions, then grabbed Virgil’s face and sunk his lips into his harshly. 

Some kind of warmth rose in Virgil’s chest, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he also didn’t want to, he just knew that it was only Roman that could possibly make him feel this way. He didn’t intend for this to happen at all, even after Roman first kissed him a month ago. He had wanted to go out on one date with him, and let that be it. It soon became clear to him, though, that Roman didn’t want to let him go, and he had kind of growing on him anyways. By the time Virgil had written the song for Roman, he knew he really liked him. Love, maybe. Virgil didn’t want to think about it. Attraction, however, was a definitely. 

The kissing was heated, and though Virgil knew it wasn’t going to go any farther, it still scared him to death when someone knocked on the door. Roman broke apart from him instantly, looking at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Roman’s lips were swollen, he was panting like crazy, and his shirt was wrinkled to match his messy hair. Virgil could just imagine how he looked, but he was too surprised to say anything as Aunt Valerie opened the door.

Roman and Virgil hurriedly got into some casual sitting positions, looking up as Aunt Val smiled at them, Roman’s phone in her hand. “Hello, boys!” she greeted. “I hope you guys are having fun, and I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you, but I noticed someone has been repeatedly calling you Roman.” Roman took the phone from Virgil’s aunt, confused, and looked at the screen with a frown.

“Ah. It’s just Jacob from my theater production. This should only take a minute,” Roman said, winking at Virgil, who blushed immediately. The next few seconds were filled with Roman answering the call, listening to Jacob with a few sounds of acknowledgement now and then, and Virgil and Aunt Val listening awkwardly. Eventually, Roman hung up, and looked between the two.

“This night has been lovely, and thank you so much for having me over Valerie, but I must get going,” Roman said, kissing Aunt Val’s hand as she giggled. “There’s been an emergency at the theater with some of the backdrop designs and Jacob wants me to take a look at it. I may be just an actor, but at this point, I’m the one who runs the show.” 

Aunt Valerie laughed and waved to Roman. “Okay, sweetie. I have some things to talk with Virgil about anyways. Have a nice rest of your night, Roman.” 

“You too, Ms. Hernandez. I’ll see you later, Virgil.” Virgil smiled as Roman kissed his cheek goodbye, and then left after grabbing his tie from the side of Virgil’s bed. 

As soon as the door closed, Aunt Val sat beside Virgil on the bed, right where Roman had been sitting and looked at her nephew with a tight smile. It was the same smile she wore those nine years ago when she had opened the door for those cops that gave them the news that had ruined their lives. 

Fear paced around Virgil’s heart as Aunt Valerie watched him silently, her grin slowly fading away. “Virgil, I’m really so glad you found Roman,” she started. Oh no. That wasn’t good. What did this have to with Roman? Virgil looked at Aunt Val as tears started pouring out of her eyes, and Virgil quickly embraced her as she sobbed lightly.

“I remember the first time Anastasia introduced me to to Anthony,” Aunt Valerie spoke after a while, pressing Virgil’s face to her chest soothingly. “I wish I could say he was half the gentleman Roman is, but he never was. I don’t know what Ana saw in him. He was a good sculptor, I guess, and handsome. But he was rude, a liar, and cared for no one but himself, and it got even worse when alcohol got into the mix.”

Aunt Val pulled away from her nephew, holding onto his shoulders as if to steady him, but it seemed more like she was trying to steady herself. “Now, look, Virge. Your mother loved you with all of her heart, and she would’ve wanted what’s best for you, as do I. I’ve always been so proud of the independent, strong young man you have become, and don’t you ever think otherwise.” Where was this all going? What was happening?! Virgil saw black spots in the corners of his vision, and Aunt Val must have noticed this, because she began fanning him.

“Virgil! Calm down, please! I’m sorry, just... here look at this,” Aunt Val hurriedly grabbed something from behind her, a long envelope that looked as yellow as it was intimidating. He fingered the opening of it, but Aunt Val said, “Wait! And before you open that—I’m sorry, just one more thing—I want you to know Roman is such a nice young man. I’m so happy to see you found happiness with him, and...” Her voice trailed off, looking at Virgil’s hands as they started peeling open the envelope again. 

He pulled out the first piece of paper, a giant white sheet with bold black words printed across its middle. “‘The Anthony Johnson Case’,” Virgil read aloud, and looked at Aunt Val quizzically and fearfully at the same time. She nodded at him as another tear ran down her cheek, and he pulled out the next paper.

“It’s a list of all the evidence they collected the night Anastasia died,” Aunt Val explained as Virgil scanned the page. “The next one is a profile of your father, and the next one... take a look at it.” Virgil flipped to that page and almost gasped when he saw it. 

In black and white, there were pictures of twenty-four different people, the victims of Anthony Johnson’s mass murder. The first one was Anastasia. Aunt Valerie was crying hard now, and she croaked, “Third row, second column.” Virgil’s eyes swept over that said spot, and what he saw there made him want to puke. 

The picture showed a handsome man, his hair combed and teeth obviously bright white. Virgil knew who it was before he read the name, and he read it aloud with a choked-up voice, “‘Garfield Prince.’ Roman... Roman’s dad.” He was a spitting image of him, with the same crooked smile, rounded nose, and shining eyes. 

Virgil put a hand to his mouth, feeling something shrivel up inside him. He jumped into Aunt Val’s already outstretched arms, crying into them as she hugged back. It hurt. It hurt like no other pain Virgil had ever experienced. He wanted to punch something and die in a hole somewhere at the same time, but he stayed there bawling with Aunt Valerie for a long amount of time until his tears had run out and he was sniffling and hiccuping.

So he was right after all. He was so stupid! So stupid to think he could actually pull this love shit off! It was all his fault! Not only was he going to ruin him and Roman’s relationship, but he already ruined Roman’s mom and dad’s. He was such a fucking idiot for doing this! 

The taste of Roman in his mouth once felt beautiful, but now disgusted him as he stood up, ripping free of Aunt Val’s grasp as he walked over to his desk. “The criminal mind, huh? It’s funny, right?” Aunt Valerie asked nervously, and Virgil couldn’t tell if she was joking in attempt to lighten the mood or if she was just commenting on the coincidence. 

“It’s not the mind,” Virgil grumbled, taking the paper he wrote the song for Roman on. He scowled down at it and crumbled it up into a ball. “It’s just fate, Val.” He took the wad of paper and stuffed into a trash can and spat in it. 

“Virgil, sweetie, I’m so sorry about this, but it doesn’t mean-“

“Yes, it does! You think it’s just cruddy luck that my dad killed my boyfriend’s dad?!” Virgil was screaming now. “What do you think the universe is trying to tell me then?! That Roman and I are going to be just fine and dandy because it’s totally just a coincidence that my dad ruined his family’s life?!”

“Virgil, please, this doesn’t mean anything!” Aunt Val said. 

“No. Aunt Val, I will agree with you on many things, but this is not one of them,” Virgil whimpered, feeling tears stream down him now. “Roman and I were never going to work, and this is just proof of that.”

“But I’ve never seen you so happy, Virgil! I really think that Roman’s your-“ Aunt Valerie stopped herself, biting back the word yet it echoed through the air. 

“What? My soulmate?!” Virgil cried. “Christ, Val! You know, Roman and Patton said that too? You know why? Because you’re both idiots! Everyone in love is a damn idiot!” Virgil was stomping around now, nearly tripping over his pajama pants.

“Virgil,” Aunt Valerie said, sounding serious now and Virgil stopped to look at her stern face. “You are not the only one who lost your mother. I know how her death hurts just as much as you do-“

“No, you don’t!” Virgil exclaimed, pulling at his hair. “She didn’t read to you in bed whenever you were scared and felt like there were monsters under your bed! She didn’t paint you landscapes from your favorite Disney movies whenever she had the chance! She didn’t take pictures of you blowing out your candles on your cake during your second birthday!” Virgil was panting now, hunched over and crying through gritted teeth. “I know you loved her, Valerie, but you didn’t love her like I did.”

Virgil looked up at Valerie, who was watching this with with wobbling lips and a tired face. She wanted to cry some more, but she was staying strong, Virgil could tell. He sighed. “Roman loves me, Val. And I’m not sure if I love him, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t hurt him. I don’t care if he understands that it was my dad and not me, I’m done with him and I’m done with hurting innocent people.”

Aunt Valerie nodded slowly. “If... if that’s what you want.” She didn’t continue, just kept looking at the floor and Virgil stepped out of the room. How dare the hall look so clean and sturdy, yet nothing like the one Virgil had gone through when going in to his bedroom with Roman? Virgil growled. The world should be falling apart just like his world was. 

He ran down the stairs, out the front door, and grabbed his bicycle from the driveway. Virgil never really rode on it much, just on nights like these. He began to drive through the streets, his brain not thinking and his heart telling his hands where to steer. The wind slapped his face, whispering to him and reminding him of how pathetic he’d been to ever give in to Roman.

Eventually, he stopped, nearly out of breath, right beside a large lake. It was surrounded by stones and rocks of all kinds, and Virgil looked at it as he parked his bike on a bench beside it. He sat on one of the bigger rocks, looking down at the waters and frowning at his reflection. Virgil took a rock and flung it as far as he could into the lake, and it sunk with a plop. 

The lake never had changed from when he was a kid, and Virgil felt a shaky smile worm its way onto his face. He took his shoes and socks off and dipped the ends of his toes into the water and continued to throw rocks, some of his throws angry and some of them more controlled. He stayed there for a while until the sky had gone completely pitch black, humming the tune to a sad song he didn’t recognize that kept getting interrupted by his tears.


	7. Appointments

Virgil slumped over the counter at The Mind Palace, watching it collect dust as he blew a steady stream of air out of his lips. He wasn’t feeling too well, which was reasonable for a guy about to break up with his boyfriend who also hadn’t slept at all the night beforehand. 

After coming home from the lake, Virgil had went home and poured himself some strong coffee, already knowing his body wouldn’t be able to rest, and cried the night away in bed. After all, conspiracy videos could only do so much for a heartbroken person. 

A part of him wasn’t too surprised about it all, however. It was the small part of him that he hadn’t given up to Roman, or anyone else for that matter. The part that knew all romantic relationships weren’t meant for him and he shouldn’t hold on to too much of a good thing. And, really, he couldn’t have expected himself to remain guarded his whole life. He had honestly known he would slip up one day, tripping and falling on the lonely path he had planned out for his life so many years ago. He just hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

Yes, Virgil knew it wasn’t like he was the one who had personally killed Roman’s dad. But he still felt responsible about it anyways, and keeping away from Roman meant he would never have to confess it to him or hurt him in any way. Besides, Anthony ran in his blood. Who’s to say Virgil wouldn’t become like him one day? It was a dark thought, and Virgil shivered at the bare thought of it, and pushed it away. 

It was both a bad and good thing Patton wasn’t there at work that Saturday. Good in the sense that Virgil didn’t feel pressured to tell his best friend about what happened and break up with Roman in front of him. Bad, however, because that meant he didn’t have a shoulder to cry on through this, both literally and metaphorically. 

Virgil was pulled away from his thoughts when a tall shadow suddenly blocked his view of the counter, and he looked up to see Roman. His heart jumped into his throat and he wanted to cry at the sight of his sparkling hazel eyes and crooked smile. Roman placed a light kiss on Virgil’s lips, who turned away fast but not fast enough. 

‘Hope you enjoyed that. It’s the last kiss you’re ever getting from this guy,’ Virgil thought to himself, pretending to occupy himself with toying around with the coffee machine.

“Hello, my angsty love!” Roman said, running a hand through his hair, beaming. “It’s such a beautiful day, Virgil. I was thinking we could go grab some dinner tonight and then catch a movie someplace. Your pick.” 

Virgil felt a response on his tongue, one accepting the offer and he saw the night flash before him; picking up Chinese food with Roman, snuggling against him in a dark theater, then staying over at Roman’s apartment and kissing and cuddling- Virgil gulped. No. He had to stay strong. For Roman.

“Look,” Virgil said with the driest voice he could manage. The one he wore when he was talking to anybody else. “If you’re not going to order anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Roman frowned, and thinking his boyfriend was only joking, smile again. “Ah. Getting a little stressed my love? You know I can help with that,” Roman said, and winked at Virgil. 

Something inside Virgil wanted to jump into Roman’s arms. So, so bad. But he bit the inside of his cheek, silently cursing himself for becoming so attached to someone.

“I’m serious, Roman,” Virgil growled, and he turned back around. He couldn’t do this, not while looking Roman right in the eyes. “I... I can’t do this anymore.” Virgil didn’t have to be staring at Roman to know something inside the man broke at the words. A small sound escaped Roman, like a choke and a whimper rolled into one. 

“What?” All in a moment it became clear to him the reality of what was happening, and Virgil had to stop himself from comparing him to fragile china, ready to break at any moment. “Virgil... Virgil, are you okay? Tell me what I did, please. Virgil, we can talk through this, I promise, just please don’t-“ Roman was begging now, more pleasing than Virgil had ever heard him. 

“Roman!” Virgil turned suddenly, and he hated himself for ever bothering to put on eyeshadow that morning, feeling tears already raining down his face in sheets. “I just can’t keep this up, okay?! Don’t make this harder than it has to be! I- I told you...” He looked down at his reflection. His face was streaked with black lines and he was shaking. He had to calm down. He had to get Roman out of there.

“Leave,” he croaked, and he snuck a glimpse at Roman. He looked heartbroken, too heartbroken to be real. Was Virgil sure he wasn’t stuck in a break-up scene of a cliche romance movie?

Then Roman’s own eyes drifted downwards and he pulled something out of his messenger bag. He placed it on the counter, and from the corner of Virgil’s vision he saw it was a bouquet of light pink roses, looking like they had been kissed by the morning sun. The petals rustled when they landed on the surface and Virgil forced himself to not tilt his his head to get a better look at them.

“As you wish,” Roman said in a whisper, and with that, he left. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, Virgil threw himself on top of the counter and sobbed, crying harder now. He’d expected Roman to argue with him more, and somehow him not doing so only made him feel worse. He looked up at the bouquet, glowing in the limited light the café held, and he grabbed it swiftly. 

Virgil threw the flowers to the ground, then started stomping on them like crazy. He crushed them until they didn’t even look like roses anymore, a hurt hitting him that he hadn’t recognized since the weeks after Anastasia died. How lame was he to compare his breakup with Roman to his mother’s death? Virgil stomped once more, crying at the mess he had made and how he had treated Roman’s last gift to him. What kind of monster was he? One that would forever be far away from Roman, where he belonged. 

Virgil felt a hand rest on his shoulder and he nearly jumped up. “Hey, Virge,” a voice said, groggy and slurred, but not in a drunk way, more sleepy. Virgil knew who it was without even turning around.

“Hi, Remy,” he said, but his voice was weak and nearly gone. Virgil coughed. 

“I’m usually man of privacy, but I couldn’t help but notice you just broke up with that boy of yours,” Remy continued, patting Virgil’s back and then walking around the counter so that he was facing him. Virgil didn’t feel he looked as much as a mess as he had before, taking in Remy’s knotted light brown hair, crooked sunglasses, and shaky posture.

“Yeah. Well... that’s how it goes sometimes.”

“Sugar, as your designated boss, I order you to come sit and talk with me.”

Virgil, under any other circumstances, would have declined, but right now he was feeling like he was the sober equivalent of a wasted man and he needed to go sit down. So he followed Remy to a table and watched as his boss sipped carefully through the straw of an ice tea.

“Now,” he eventually said with a smack of his lips, “I know I’m not the perfect, ideal vision for a boss, honey. Believe me, this café was never my dream growing up, but it is my dream now. And I love it, but I’m not a stable person, as I’m sure you’ve taken notice of already.”

Virgil shrugged, looking down at his folded hands. “Not my business, really.”

“Ah, but I’m about to get you to tell me some of your own, so it is now,” Remy said. “Anyways, I’m sorry for not being a good boss, is what I’m saying. I‘m sure Patton has already told you all about my hippie days, so I won’t get in to that part of my life. But there is something that I never told him that I’ll tell you.” Virgil couldn’t help but lean closer. 

“The reason why I stopped my old lifestyle was because my jerk of an ex, Miguel. He and I were roommates in college, and we did everything together. We’d go to pride parades, protest against guns, and get stoned afterwards,” Remy said, tapping his fingers against his lower lip. “But then one night I caught him sleeping with a girl we both knew, a bitch I might add too, and we broke up. I stopped my hippiedom soon after that, and I bought this here café when no else wanted it.” Virgil hummed in acknowledgement, about to ask what this had to do with him, but Remy stopped him.

“Moral of the story is, love sucks. I know that just as much as the next guy, honey. But don’t beat yourself up for trying, because it’s all we can do. And sometimes a broken relationship can just lead us to good things, like me and The Mind Palace,” Remy finished, and Virgil sighed. 

“That’s great, Remy, but-“

“Ah, ah, ah,” Remy tutted. “Now, tell me what happened between you and that handsome gentleman that just left.”

Virgil slumped in his chair and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Could he really trust Remy with this? He hadn’t even told Patton yet, and this is the first actual conversation he’s had with Remy since he interviewed him. Virgil looked up at Remy, who was drinking his ice tea sleepily, and he figured he had nothing to lose.

“His name is R-Roman,” Virgil said, playing with his hoodie strings as he spoke carefully. “He- uh, he and I have been seeing each other for about a month and-“

“You learned he’s a self-obsessed jerk.”

“More like I figured out he isn’t,” Virgil said with a chuckle. “He’s wonderful, and charming, and I’ve never liked someone as much as him. He didn’t do anything wrong to me, Remy.”

“So why break up with him, girl?” Remy asked, intrigued.

“Because,” Virgil shrugged. “My...” His voice trailed off and he found it hard to speak the words aloud for the first time since he found out. He cleared his throat once more and held back the tears stinging the ends of his eyes.

“My dad killed his dad.”

Remy lightly gasped. “Really? And he thought you were a murderer too?”

“What? No, he doesn’t know,” Virgil elaborated. “I mean, I’m sure he knows a man named Anthony Johnson killed his dad, but I go by Virgil Hernandez. And we look nothing alike. I look more like my mother, thank God.” 

“So, again, why break up with him?”

“Because, Remy, I’m going to have to tell him the truth at point or another! And then what? He either breaks up with me, or knowing him, he stays with me and something happens and, you know...”

“You don’t want to hurt him,” Remy breathed.

“Well, yeah, of course I don’t. I take meds for my depression and anxiety I guess, but if I lose control...” Virgil sighed. “I could even hurt myself, in front of him, and I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened. That is, if I’m still living.”

Remy let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair as he twirled his bright green straw around with his fingers. “That’s dark, Virgil, even for you. But have you ever considered telling him about your situation and then say you want to break up? He looked so heartbroken...”

“Don’t remind me,” Virgil growled. “And I’m just trying to protect him. If I tell him why I want to break up with him, he’ll insist it’s okay. Which it’s not, but he won’t realize that until it’s too late. Trust me, that boy will follow me everywhere I go if I do that. It’s best for him to just think I did it because I can’t handle romance.”

“But what if-“

“He’s my soulmate?” Virgil said without hesitation. He was used to it. “That’s what everyone keeps saying, and if he is, that gives me even more of a reason to stay away from him. He deserves someone, and if that someone is me, I’m going to make sure I can’t harm him, Remy.”

Remy pouted. “Well it seems I can’t convince you otherwise, sugar... but do you need a hug? You look like you need to cling onto something.” Virgil looked up at Remy’s outstretched arms and he nodded, making a whimpering sound in the back of his throat.

Virgil jumped into Remy’s embrace, nuzzling his face into his boss’ shoulder. He smelled like coffee and fresh laundry, and Virgil breathed him in as he squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears pour out. When they broke apart, Virgil sniffed and grinned at his boss.

“Thanks, man,” Virgil said with a nod, standing up. “I... I needed that. I owe you one.”

“No problem, hon,” Remy said. “And you don’t owe me nothing. Except for maybe a little money.”

“What? Why?” Virgil said, eyes wide. 

“I’m joking,” Remy laughed. Then under his breath, too quiet for Virgil to hear, he said, “I’ll pay for it.” 

Virgil walked back to the counter space as Remy stepped out the front door, and he leaned over to look at the mess of roses he had made. He picked them up as gingerly as he could, brushing his hands over the fallen petals and then put them in a mug full of water. Joan and Talyn’s shift would start soon and he had a full day of crying to get to, so Virgil grabbed the mug and went out, completely unaware of the plan Remy was brewing.

-

Roman twiddled his thumbs as he sat in the waiting chair. Anxiety was more of Virgil’s thing, but nervousness was practically seeping out of him. Virgil had broken up with him last week, and it had been the hardest week of Roman’s life. Usually when Roman tried to endure his heartbreaks he put on Disney movies and try to relax, but that would only make him think of Virgil. 

So he simply sat around his room, even if every part of him wanted to call Virgil and talk to him or plan some romantic gesture to get him back, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. Not with Virgil. And everyday he would go the Mind Palace and leave Virgil a bouquet on the counter, but he was never sure if he got it since he always seemed to be in the Employee Room. It was almost as if they had reversed time and had gone back to the point before him and Virgil’s relationship, where Virgil would hide from him in fear of developing feelings for Roman. 

Roman loved Virgil more than anything, and after the scene in The Mind Palace occurred, Roman went over all the things he had done at Virgil’s house, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where he did something wrong. He ultimately concluded he had been too forward with Virgil, even after given permission, but that still didn’t feel right. Contrary to his others in the past, the breakup didn’t feel real. It didn’t make Roman feel like his world was crashing down before him, rather it made him feel numb, like it was all a dream.

Even in Choir Virgil managed to find another seat far from Roman, who couldn’t talk to him now if he tried. And down the halls if Roman ever caught a glimpse of Virgil he’d already be turning around, head low and walking faster to get to where he needed to go without any hopes of interaction.

But he was going to find out Virgil’s reasons soon, fortunately. Patton had called him that morning and said he set up a couples’ therapy appointment for the two of them and he needed Roman to be there, all expenses paid by Remy, who had the idea in the first place. 

Roman was especially thankful this guy worked then, it being so close to Christmas and all. Tomorrow would be Christmas Eve, after all, and the thought only made Roman feel worse. Right now he should be cuddling the love of his life beside a fireplace, not trying to understand why he left him. Thoughts of Christmas gifts weren’t even plaguing Roman’s head this time of year. The best gift he could honestly receive now was Virgil back.

Roman toyed with his red hoodie strings, suddenly realizing how calming it was and why Virgil did it so often as he waited in silent anticipation. He didn’t have to wait too long, thankfully, for Patton to show up at the waiting room doors, smiling at Roman. Behind him, an irritated voice said, “I swear, Patt, if you don’t take this blindfold off of me right now, I will personally take your tongue and tie it like a pair of laces.”

“What a visual, kiddo!” Patton said with a laugh, and Roman watched as he pulled Virgil into the room beside him and his heart sped up. And just in case, he locked the door before yanking away the scarlet blindfold that had been covering up Virgil’s eyes.

Virgil’s eyes popped out as soon as he saw Roman who was smiling achingly warmly at him, and his first instinct was to run. But Patton stood behind him, guarding the door. “Nuh-uh, V. You’re not getting out of this one,” Patton said.

“What... what are you doing?” Virgil gasped, already breathing heavy, back to Roman so he didn’t have to look at his gorgeous face.

“Remy told me about what happened between you and Ro over there, and he had the idea of bringing you to this couples therapy,” Patton explained slowly. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but we’re only trying to do what’s best for you.”

“Remy, that goddamn bastard! This is absolutely not what’s best for me!” Virgil cried, and reached for the doorknob. But he froze when he heard Roman’s voice from behind him.

“Virgil,” Roman called. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to,” Virgil grunted, still refusing to look at him.

Roman sighed, expecting for this sort of response but still somehow not prepared for it. What had he done that made Virgil hate him so much that it was if they had rewinded back to when they didn’t know each other? “Virgil, listen. I’ll tell you what, we’ll do one session with this therapist. If you don’t like it, I won’t bother you again.”

“Ever?” Virgil asked. A beat.

“Ever.”

Virgil turned around and looked at Roman. Roman took in his face, smeared with dark makeup that never failed to make him look like a stunning, freckled raccoon, and his outfit, which was more colorful than most that he had worn. A purple polo shirt, a gray hoodie, dark blue jeans, and his usual black sneakers, coated with a layer of mud. Patton had obviously tried dressing him that morning. Either way, Virgil was so handsome, and Roman tried not to cry at the thought that he had a possibility of never being with him again after this.

Defeated, Virgil sat in the chair farthest away from Roman and Patton sat beside him, shooting an emphatic look at Roman. The room was silent after that, other than Patton’s feet drumming against the floor and the ticking of the clock. Roman would sneak glimpses of Virgil every now and then, who oddly looked so much different than he had last saw him, but at the same time, the same. Maybe it was Virgil’s new hair color that was throwing him off, with the magenta enhanced showing he must have gotten it freshly dyed and the color black stained near his scalp. 

Whatever it was, a man soon came into the room, introducing himself as Nate, Picani’s assistant, and lead them to said therapist’s office. Patton said goodbye and left the two to flop onto the couch in the middle of the cartoon-themed room. Roman watched as Virgil curled himself into the other corner of the sofa, trying to get away from Roman as much as possible. Roman looked down sadly. 

It simultaneously felt like it took all of eternity and no time at all for their therapist to arrive at the door. Or, at least, be heard. They both looked up at the sounds of a voice singing a chorus of “ba ba ba dum”, which Roman quickly recognized as a reference to Spongebob.

Eventually a middle-aged man with bright pink hair and tie and a large smile taking up at least half of his face appeared, almost out of breath from his singing. Roman couldn’t help but smile back as Virgil’s eyes looked up at the doctor for about a second then drifted back down again.

“Hello, everybody!” the therapist cheered, dancing a little as he sat on the swivel chair in front of the two. “I’m Dr. Picani, and you must be the lovely new couple here for my three o'clock appointment! Yay or nay?”

“Nay,” Virgil said, uncurling himself with a scowl. “We’re an ex-couple.”

“Sort of,” Roman added, earning a glare from Virgil.

Dr. Picani laughed, despite the thick tension in the air, scribbling something down in his clipboard. “And do you how do… you two?”

Roman shrugged. “Eh. So-so, I would say.” Virgil made a noise like “hmph” but didn’t comment, and Dr. Picani looked between the two with a smile still somehow plastered on.

“Wonderful,” Dr. Picani said. “Well I can already see this session is going to be the amazing.”

“Why the extra ‘the’?” Virgil piped up.

The doctor gasped. “Have you not watched Teen Titans? Starfire?!”

“I have!” Roman said, the talk of one of his favorite cartoons seeming to ease away his fears. “Robin’s my favorite!”

“Ah! Good!” Dr. Picani cheered, pointing his pen at him. “And you’re Roman, right?”

“Roman Prince, yup.”

“And I take it you are Virgil Hernandez, or previously Virgil J-”

“Uh, yeah! Yup!” Virgil quickly interrupted, flushing slightly when Roman looked at him, confused.

“Bippity-boopity booyahkasha! Now, before we begin, one thing I need for the both of you to understand is that during this couples therapy, my client is never the individual. It’s not about you, Virgil, or Roman. It’s about the relationship itself,” Dr. Picani said, smile widening. “So, to set the relationship apart, I like to establish a ‘ship name’ or fusion name!”

Virgil huffed a bit as Roman clapped his hands together excitedly. “Ooh! Sounds fun!”

“Right?!” Dr. Picani squealed, then looked down at his clipboard. “Okay, Roman and Virgil... Virge... Virgan? Oops, nope, let’s try that again.” He giggled a bit as he scratched the name off his paper hastily. “How about... Virman? No, no. That still doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Could we use our last names if our first ones don’t work?” Roman suggested.

“Great idea, Roman! So we have Prince and-”

“Can I just be called Anxiety instead?” Virgil asked hastily. “For my last name, I mean.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Picani hummed, and he wrote down something and grinned. “Ah! I got it! Prinxiety! That’s much better!” Roman laughed but Virgil cringed at the sound of the name, and the eccentric therapist continued. “Ok K.O, Let’s Do This! Have either of you been to therapy before?”

Roman shook his head as Virgil said, “Yeah. I was diagnosed for anxiety and depression nine years ago. I had a therapist for about three years or so.”

“Any reason why you stopped seeing them?”

Virgil bit his lip. “They stopped working as a therapist and with my meds and all the office figured I was stable enough to stop seeing one.”

“Okay. And what brings you here today?” 

There was a silence and Roman and Virgil looked at each other for the first time since Virgil arrived and they quickly turned back. “I... we broke up,” Virgil grumbled. “And Roman just can’t accept it.”

“Virgil, that’s not true,” Roman snapped, then looked at Picani. “Okay, it is a little true. Look, we did sort of break up but I haven’t the slightest idea why. Everything was fine until one morning Virgil told me we were done. So our friend, Patton, and his boss helped pay for us to come here to see you and try and... work this out.”

Dr. Picani’s brows scrunched together and he looked at Virgil. Immediately, Virgil shrunk, feeling guilty and sick, and he closed his eyes softly. Breathe in on one, breath out on two, breathe in, breathe out...

“Are you okay?” Roman asked, hand suddenly on Virgil’s knee.

Virgil yanked back away. “I’m fine.”

“So the fusion is... split apart?” Dr. Picani asked hesitantly.

“No. Not exactly. But yes. I- I don’t know. Virgil?” 

Virgil sighed. “Yes. And it always will be.”

“Now why do you say that?” Dr. Picani questioned.

“A lot of reasons,” Virgil grumbled. 

Dr. Picani stayed quiet for a second, wrote something down and then looked through his notes. Then he looked up at Virgil with a frown. “And when did you first fuse, or start Dipper-and-Mabel Pine-ING for each other?”

“About a month and a half ago,” Roman answered. “But we’ve known each other for about two.”

“Any specific reason you can cite as to why you decide to break it apart so early, Virgil?” Dr. Picani asked gently, and Virgil’s eyes fell to the floor. 

“I- I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“What did you say? I couldn’t quite Jeremy HEAR-e you,” Picani said, brushing off the fact he accidentally made a reference to a musical rather than a cartoon. 

“I can’t do this!”

“Virgil, you are in a safe environment. In order for the therapy session to work, both sides of the fusion have to be willing to share what’s on their mind.” But tears were spilling down Virgil now rhythmically and his breathing was quickening as he hiccuped. 

“I- I-“ he squeaked, but couldn’t say much more, folding and unfolding his hands and unable to look up from the ground. Was he actually considering doing this? He was going to ruin everything and Roman would be put in danger again. It would be all his fault. All his fault. 

“Okay, Virgil, let’s try this instead,” Dr. Picani interrupted. “Roman, you tell me a bit about what being fused was like for you and why you think Prinxiety was broken apart so soon, and Virgil will do the same afterwards!” 

Roman nodded, worried eyes flicking between their therapist and Virgil, not knowing whether it was better to comfort his ex or to leave him be. “I... I’ve been in more relationships than I’d like to admit. But Virgil made me realize why I always charged back into love’s battlefield,” Roman started. “Prinxiety was most definitely the best fusion I’ve ever been apart of. Virgil makes me feel special and loved in a way that no other relationship has made me feel. I feel safe and protected with him, and I want nothing more than to provide that feeling to him as well.”

Then Roman’s face sank. “I- I think a reason why Prinxiety split apart is because I was too forward. I even said I believed Virgil and I are soulmates, but I see now that that can seem a bit... rushed for him. And if he wants to say it was official breakup then... that’s fine with me. Anything to make him happy.”

“Aww! And you, Virgil?” Dr. Picani said.

Virgil opened his mouth, but words didn’t come out. What would he say? Would he actually participate in this? Maybe he could justify himself. Maybe he could make Dr. Picani see why he had to break up with Roman, why Prinxiety broke apart. Maybe he could get Roman to understand too. Maybe.

“My- my life changed nine years ago. Long story short, my mom died by being killed by my dad, who she thought was her soulmate,” Virgil explained quietly, voice hoarse from his crying. “I never expected to like anyone romantically after that, I didn’t want to.”

“So Prinxiety split apart because of your lack of wanting a relationship because of your parents’ own relationship?” Dr. Picani tried to finish, but Virgil shook his head. 

“There’s... there’s something a bit more to the story than that,” Virgil said. Oh God, he was shaking now. He felt his body vibrating, his throat wanting to close up and make him silent, but he had to get this out. He had to. He had to make them understand. He had to make himself understand. 

“My dad didn’t just shoot my mom that night. He shot twenty-three other people.”

Virgil shivered as soon as he spoke the words, and he could practically feel Roman freeze right beside him. Even Dr. Picani stiffened a bit before slowly scrawling the information down with a small “wow.”

“My- my dad’s been in jail now for most of the nine years, but, uh-“ Virgil stammered, playing with his hoodie strings as he felt his voice wavering. “I didn’t really know exactly who he shot until my Aunt Valerie told me about a week ago. The day before... Prinxiety broke apart.”

“And what about the victims of the shooting caused you to want Prinxiety to inevitably... end?”

Virgil looked up at Roman, who was crying now as well. He knew what was coming before Virgil could even say it. 

“One of them was Roman’s dad.”

There was a beat, and then Dr. Picani scribbled this down, as if Virgil hadn’t just explained that his dad had been directly responsible for Roman’s dad’s murder, and then stuck his pen in his hair.

“Alright, well I’ll admit that’s a lot of Total Drama-Island, Virgil. But now that we know the exact cause of the Prinxiety’s splitting apart, we can work to finding a better way to settle this-“

“What?” Virgil barked, sitting up further in his seat, looking between the therapist and Roman, who had remained still, staring at the ground with a grieving look.

“Look, I get you’re just trying to do your job, man, but this relationship- it’s over.”

Dr. Picani frowned, a more serious look taking over his face. “Virgil, your dad murdered his dad. That shouldn’t at all, in any way, affect your personal relationship with Roman.”

“But it does! He- what if, what if...” Virgil’s voice drifted off, and Dr. Picani looked into his eyes long enough to understand. 

“Relationships have so many ‘what-if’s, Virgil,” Dr. Picani offered softly. “But that doesn’t mean this fusion has to be apart for forever just because of this new information. I mean, how was your relationship before you learned this?”

“Fine,” Virgil responded. “But in the future-“

“We aren’t in the future right now,” Dr. Picani reminded him. “But let’s go on a little blast to the past. You said Prinxiety hasn’t been active for about a week? How has that week been for you two?”

Virgil was quiet for a second. Lots of crying, vomiting into a trash can, and forcing himself to sleep by burying himself under blanket after blanket. And for the majority of it he was just trying to convince himself he was feeling bad due to some sickness. But that wasn’t true at all. He just really, really missed Roman.

What- What the fuck was he doing? He looked at Roman, at his red eyes and wobbly lips. Oh God, he hurt him. In trying to avoid hurting him, he did anyways. 

A pain shot through Virgil like no other and he felt the weight of everything he made Roman endure sink into him. He suddenly sensed Dr. Picani still staring at him and in a shaky voice he answered truthfully, “Terrible.”

Then, without warning, he jumped into Roman’s arms. Roman immediately surrounded him in the embrace, crying into his shoulder, happy or sad tears Virgil wasn’t sure, and soon he was sobbing too. Usually Roman’s hugs were firm and made Virgil feel like he was a Disney princess and Roman was his prince, but this one they both seemed like they were needing comfort. Virgil couldn’t say he necessarily minded.

“Aw! Look at you two, having a little feels-fest!” Dr. Picani squealed as they leaned off each other just enough to adjust so that they were still hugging and facing their therapist. Virgil sniffed a bit, a smile finally finding its way to his face, and he squeezed his arms around Roman’s waist, curled up against him as Roman rested his chin in his head. 

“Are you okay now, Virgil?” Dr. Picani continued and Virgil nodded, his sappy grin growing a bit.

“I- yeah, I think I’m fine,” he sighed as Roman rubbed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “I just- I don’t want to let go, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is!” Dr. Picani exclaimed and chuckled. “I’m glad that that’s all settled now! Now we can get a little weird and get a little wild…” The doctor then continued to hum the rest of the Star Vs. The Forces of Evil theme song and sang out, “We’re gonna have a good time!”

Roman giggled through his sniffling and Virgil looked at him, confused.

Dr. Picani smiled at the sight. “You know you two remind me of Garnet.”

“Garnet?” Virgil said.

“From Steven Universe!” Dr. Picani elaborated. “Please say you’ve heard of it at least!”

“Oh yeah, yeah,” Virgil confirmed and Roman smiled widely. 

“I absolutely love the show!”

“Wonderful! So you’ll both know what I’m saying when I say your fusion possesses many qualities that Garnet does,” Dr. Picani said, and Roman gasped happily as Virgil laughed. The therapist turned to Virgil, pointing his pen at him.

“You, Virgil, are not too unlike the gem Sapphire. Quiet, reserved, and she too believed in a vision for her future, so much so she was sure nothing would ever change her from staying on that one course. She even found a sort of comfort in it. Then Ruby, who would be Roman in this comparison, came into her life without her consent, as I’m sure you two know. The two of them were both set on entirely new path of life that Sapphire wasn’t prepared for. However, by working things out together, they were able to find safety with one another and love.”

Roman hummed, holding Virgil a bit tighter. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate.”

“With Garnet, the fusion being split apart causes the two halves to become discouraged and have a certain feeling of unwholesomeness. They’re stronger together and both of them bring amazing, beautiful things to the relationship.”

“That’s relatable,” Roman said.

“Ooh! How so?” Dr. Picani inquired, drumming his fingers against his clipboard.

“Well, Virgil keeps me grounded. He inspires me to do so many things while also showing me sometimes it’s better just to relax and be calm,” Roman said warmly. “And he taught me that sometimes it’s better to try and see things from other people’s points of view, and that my insecurities aren’t necessarily flaws, just human. I... I honestly don’t know how I’ve gone my whole life without him, and now I don’t want to lose him.”

Dr. Picani nodded to Virgil, who took a deep breath and said, “Roman is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. He’s adventurous, he’s optimistic, he sees the wonder and fantasy in reality, something I could never do. I feel so... happy when I’m with him, and it’s just because I’m next to him. I think I believe in love now that I know him, which is a pretty amazing feat, let me tell you. But he’s so pretty, and heroic, and he’s everything I could’ve ever wanted.”

Dr. Picani was practically melting at this point, putting a hand to his heart. “Ah! So the Garnet dynamic is as present as I predicted! This helps me understand what Prinxiety needs to keep being healthy; communication. And in all honesty, all relationships should have a safe exchange of communication between all participating partners. It’s what drove Ruby and Sapphire into starting their relationship in the first place, and it’s what holds them together. And keep in mind the Garnet comparison isn’t an exact equivalent of your fusion, but even so, no matter how much you two stubbornly bash heads, communication will keep things in check and both you feeling listened to.”

The session proceeded as Virgil and Roman talked about the history of their fusion and their own pasts, Dr. Picani offering them more advice and cartoon references that Roman surely enjoyed. By the end of the two hours, Virgil felt renewed, like a big part of him had been broken and it had been fixed. As they were wrapping things up, Dr. Picani closed his pen and looked at his patients, still cuddled up against each other, and smiled affectionately. 

“That’s our time for the day, but you two continue to make sure your fusion stays strong and that both parts of it are being listened to. With a little work and lots of communication, hopefully your relationship will become as powerful and balanced as Ruby and Sapphire’s,” Dr. Picani concluded, and Roman and Virgil squeezed each other assuringly.

“We will, Picani,” Roman said. “And... thank you, for everything you’ve done today.”

“It’s been my pleasure, Roman.”

Soon, Roman and Virgil were outside of his office, and Roman wrapped Virgil in his embrace once more. Virgil smiled into the fabric of Roman’s hoodie, clutching onto its material as Roman leaned away to trail some loving kisses along his face.

“Are we good now, Virgil?” he asked gently, and Virgil nodded, not wanting to speak as a light smile traced his face.

“I love you, you know,” Roman hummed. Virgil was silent, just like every other time his boyfriend had said that phrase, but suddenly the quiet irked him. 

“I know. I love you too.” And it was the truth. Virgil knew this as Roman lifted him and spun him around, despite the narrow hallway, giggling enthusiastically. 

“I’m so happy, my darling! This calls for celebration! Let’s go on a date tonight-! If that’s okay with you, of course, my dark prince.”

“I would love to, Ro,” Virgil whispered as Roman set him down. And then the little romantic shit held him and bended him down before capturing his lips carefully. Virgil grabbed either side of his face as he kissed back. 

And Virgil felt after that it was safe to assume he knew what a Disney princess felt like after finding their prince.


	8. A Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // warning: implied sexual stuff at end, so skip over that part after the ice cream scene to the ending part I guess if you peeps don't need that :p

Roman and Virgil had spent their date night at Roman’s apartment, falling asleep together on his couch after watching a few Disney movies together. When they woke up, Roman apologized for the lame date and promised Virgil they would have an even better one that night. 

Which was why Virgil was now straightening his tie in front of a mirror as Patton complimented him to no end on how handsome he looked. Virgil wasn’t too keen on wearing formal attire, but Roman said it was necessary for where he was taking him to that evening. After hearing about their date, Aunt Val made no hesitation to go out and get Virgil a formal outfit. It wasn’t anything too unique, just a simple dark tux, except the button-up he wore underneath was a soft lavender color and on his feet were his trademark black sneakers. 

After getting his friend ready, Patton stuck around Virgil’s house until the doorbell rang, and Virgil opened it with a smile. Roman stood there, a charming smile on his face as always, his hair neatly combed and a glint of joy in his hazel eyes.

“Whoa,” he breathed, taking in his boyfriend, who blushed madly underneath his pale foundation. “You look... absolutely stunning.” Virgil didn’t know if he would call it stunning. He had put on less makeup around his eyes than usual, just some basic eyeliner, and he had put gel in his purple-slash-black hair so that it was completely slicked back. He didn’t even have on his usual black lipstick, which honestly was making his mouth feel naked in a way, but he had insisted to Patton he didn’t mind.

“Thank you, my dashing prince,” Virgil said, enjoying the way Roman’s face flushed at the name. “You don’t look that bad yourself.” That was an understatement. Roman was wearing a dark red suit with a white button-up underneath, his face practically glowing with simple yet glittery makeup that looked, for lack of a better word, enchanting. 

“Well, you two kiddos have fun, okay?” Patton said as he and Virgil stepped out of the doorway and into the driveway. 

“Okay, Patt. We will,” Virgil hummed, waving goodbye to his friend as Patton drove off in his car and Roman and Virgil hopped into Roman’s. 

“So. Where are we heading, pretty boy?”

“My, you’re just full of nicknames today, aren’t you?” Roman laughed, setting his hands on the wheel after starting the car so that it purred underneath them. “Well, I figured most of the dates I’ve taken you out on haven’t been that considerably... fancy. So, I’m gonna change that. Tonight, babe, we’re going to Thomas’.”

“What?!” Virgil nearly screeched. “But it’s so expensive to eat there! How are we gonna afford it?!”

Roman winked at his boyfriend. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I know I’m not the richest person in the world, but anything is worth taking my one true love out for the most amazing night of his life.” His hand was on Virgil’s now, who took a few deep breaths before smiling up at him.

“Okay, Roman. I trust you,” he said, and Roman kissed his lips tenderly with some excitement.

“Glorious!” Roman cried, and started driving along. “Now, it’s going to take awhile to get there, so... is it okay if we talk?”

“Yeah,” Vigil said with a shrug. “What’d you wanna talk about, Princey?”

“Well... first off, I think you’d like to know I dumped Denis... as a friend of course,” Roman explained with a chuckle, and Virgil looked up at him, surprised.

“What? Really? Why? I thought you guys were like, best friends forever or some shit.” 

“Eh. If we’re being honest, Logan is probably my best friend despite being a grown-ass adult in college now. Denis was always just kinda... there. He works in tech, but he always just followed me and Logan around so we felt bad for the guy,” Roman explained. “I don’t think Logan really liked him either, and then with everything you said about him... Anyways, this morning I told Denis we couldn’t hang out anymore, and he took it shockingly well.”

Virgil grumbled. “Be carefully around that guy. The fact that he didn’t lash out at you makes me a bit uncomfortable. But... thanks, Ro.”

“No problem. Now, let’s not talk anymore about that jerk on the most spectacular date of your life,” Roman laughed. There was a short, comfortable silence full of Roman humming some tune Virgil didn’t recognize as Virgil stared out the town through the misty window. 

“How’s Fiona doing?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“Oh! She’s doing pretty good actually!” Roman answered. “The doctors are finished with her and said she looks pretty good. The dark stuff was probably just a phase, but just in case we’re having her take a few weeks of medication and therapy to get all that depression and anxiety out of her system.”

“That’s wonderful, Roman!” Virgil said, really meaning it as he beamed at his boyfriend before reaching over to kiss his cheek. Roman blushed.

“And on the subject of mental illness, Virge, I have something I need to tell you,” Roman said. Virgil cocked a brow at him and Roman smiled uneasily. “Now you have anxiety and…”

“And depression, yeah,” Virgil said.

“Do you take medication for that?”

“Yup. Anxiety meds in the morning, depression at night,” Virgil answered. “Why?”

Roman took a long breath. Then, “I have depression too.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “What?” he queaked. His hands were balling up to fists and we felt himself start to shake. “This is my fault isn’t it?”

“Goodness no, darling! I just didn’t know how to tell you! I’ve been diagnosed for about a year now!”

Virgil frowned. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s embarrassing. Because I’m supposed to be perfect, not insecure and having breakdowns over the littlest things. That’s why.”

“Ro, that’s not embarrassing to me.”

“I know.” Roman smiled at him. “That’s why I told you.”

After slowing down the car in front of a red light, he gave Virgil his own kiss on the lips.

When he leaned away, Virgil took in the blissful look in his face with a light smile. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever kissed you without your black lipstick on,” Roman noted, and Virgil snorted. In response Roman just held him on by his shoulders and kissing the shit out of him. Soon Virgil’s hands were in his hair and Roman’s tongue was in his mouth, but they didn’t get that far before the car behind them honked, signaling the light had finally turned green.

Roman sheepishly slid back into his seat and continued driving, licking his lips as Virgil giggled quietly. Another quiet washed over them, but this time Virgil was staring at Roman, sighing happily. Roman was so fucking gorgeous and he loved him. He loved him, he loved him, he loved him. Virgil’s smile cracked wider as the thought ran by his mind once or twice. 

When they stopped at another stoplight, Roman casually turned the radio on, and Virgil was surprised to her Louis Armstrong’s voice spilling out from it, and he instantly turned it up. “I love this song,” Virgil mumbled, leaning close to the radio as he soaked in each peaceful word the song hummed. 

“Really? I know we sing it in Choir, but I never pegged you for the type to actually like it,” Roman said, and his eyes glazed over for a moment. “I used to sing this song everyday. It was my favorite right next to Disney and Beyoncé.” 

Virgil laughed again. “Yeah, well, it’s always been close to me too since it was one of my mom’s favorites. Also, bonus, her favorite color was purple so that should explain the hair...” his voice trailed off as he continued to stared at his boyfriend. “You know, we’re always talking about me and my messed up childhood. I get Mr. Perfect had an amazing childhood up until... it happened.” Virgil gulped. “But... what was it like?”

“Ah. Well, regular suburban life isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be,” Roman spoke. “My mother and father were very successful people. My mom was a nurse and my dad was a lawyer... ironically.” Virgil let out an impressed whistle. “Anyways, later I figured out I wanted to perform for a living after doing my first play in middle school, but they weren’t too happy about that, let me tell you. Well my mom wasn’t at least. I imagine my dad wouldn’t be too happy about it either.”

“Why not?” Virgil asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen you perform, but I bet you’re amazing.”

“Yeah, well, neither has my mom,” Roman said. “After that play in middle school, I made sure to do every play or musical I could in high school, and if I stayed after for rehearsal I said I was doing homework with a study group. She still let me take Musical Theatre and Theatre Arts, however, because she thought it was a safe outlet.”

“What are you going to do after high school?” Virgil asked, quickly changing the subject. It was hard to believe they were about to graduate, no matter how much that sounded like something a cheesy adult would say. But Christmas was just around the corner and with that the beginning of their last ever semester of high school.

“I’m planning to go to college for Performing Arts,” Roman hummed. “I’m going to work my way up, you know? Start off small and then hit Broadway! The hardest part will be getting my mom’s approval, of course, or just accepting her rejection.”

“Ouch.”

“What about you, Dr. Gloom?” Roman teased. “Any big plans? You know, besides writing music for forever.”

“I might continue the coffee business on top of that,” Virgil said thoughtfully. “The Mind Palace has kinda grown on me. I don’t know if I’m going to college though, and if I do it’ll be for music. And, uh...” Virgil flushed as an idea slipped through his head and fluttered around his heart. “I might follow you to New York... if you’re heading there.”

Roman gasped and a large, glowing smile ate up the lower half of his face. “Really? I was kind of thinking about going to college in New York, to get me closer to my dream, you know. And if you want to follow me there, then, darling, consider me honored. No pressure either way, though.”

Virgil gave him a shy smile in return. Honestly, he’s never even thought of following Roman until just now, but it’s not like he had much of a future planned out for himself. So it made somewhat sense. Him and Roman. New York. Virgil felt a warmth in his chest at the thought and he knew he had found his new dream.

Virgil then looked out at the window. Thomas’ was a restaurant on the far edge of town. Most of its surroundings were no longer city buildings but large fields and valleys as the land narrowed and vast ocean surrounded it, and Roman and him were now entering that portion of the ride. Virgil’s eyes swooped over the endless grasses, and suddenly he had one hand on Roman’s arm.

“Can you stop the car for just a sec-?” Virgil asked, and Roman did so immediately. Virgil unlocked the door and jumped out, and started running. Running, running, until his chest was heaving and his legs were burning. Finally he neared the edge of the cliff, below him ocean, and he smiled pleasantly. 

He heard Roman running up beside him, catching up seconds later and looking at his boyfriend with a tired, confused grin.

“What was that about, Virge-?”

But Virgil interrupted him when he threw both arms and screamed. It wasn’t a fearful yell nor an agitated one. It was a sound Roman had never heard Virgil make before. A shout of victory and freedom and absolute happiness. Roman laughed and shouted too, both of them pounding their fists in the air and screaming out into the night air.

A few moments of this passed and Virgil giggled, looking at Roman with a large grin. “Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to do that...” He doesn’t finish explaining he’s always wanted to find a place that seemed so secluded from life and untouched by the world and just scream wildly, and Roman seems to understand anyways. After all, who doesn’t feel like just randomly screaming at the sky every once in awhile?

“My pleasure,” Roman said, and he hooked Virgil’s arm into his. “And as much as I hate to rush you, darling, I think we should head back seeing as our reservation time is soon.”

Virgil hummed, learning his head on Roman’s shoulder, who blushed a deep tomato red, but said nothing more as he and Virgil hopped into the car and made their way to the rest of their night together.

-

Virgil snorted into his open hand, the other clasped with Roman’s as they walked around the streets of the city aimlessly. In an odd way they were heading to Roman’s apartment, but the route they were taking wasn’t direct. It was twisted, weird, but Virgil supposed that was just because Roman was too busy reciting his memories in theatre to really be paying attention to where their feet were going.

At the end of their date, Roman and Virgil had accidentally run into Logan and Patton—or maybe not accidentally, Virgil’s not too sure—so the two offered to take Roman’s car home so the two could take a romantic walk through the town. At first, Virgil didn’t see the point in not taking the opportunity to all carpool together in Roman’s car since Logan and Patton had taken a taxi, but now he saw the beauty in it.

Roman tenderly holding his hand, his thumb slowly rubbing the back of his hand as he rambled on and on about theatre and his experiences and stories... Virgil sighed happily, and this caused Roman to turn to his love with a frown.

“Virge, are you okay?”

Virgil looked up at his concerned eyes and something struck him. The night air whipping around both of them, the careful energy that buzzed throughout the air between them, the way Roman looked at him- Oh God, that stare. Those shining hazel eyes, so full of life and hope and love. Virgil was never going to find anyone like Roman. Never ever again. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said softly. “I’m better than fine. I just...” He sighed again and took Roman’s other hand into his. 

“I love you. A lot, Roman,” Virgil explained slowly. “And, Jesus, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“You do?” Roman squeaked, and the giddy, childish hope in his voice made Virgil’s face crinkle and he smiled involuntary. God, Roman was adorable. And hot. He was a blessing. Virgil nodded and Roman beamed, gingerly lifting the boy and spinning him in slow circles as he laughed heartily into Virgil’s chest. 

Then Roman took his boyfriend and carried him, one hand under his legs and one under his back, holding him protectively as he continued to walk along the street in silence. They didn’t really care if people stared at them, and Roman smiled into Virgil’s hair as he planted soft kisses in his black roots. 

Virgil shifted around in Roman’s arms and made it easier for him to kiss the top of his head, and at one point Roman even leaned over and kissed Virgil on the lips. It was long and slow as Roman explored the taste of Virgil’s mouth against his, and then he pulled away, eyes glazed over and a light smile tracing across his face.

“Virgil, I know you don’t like hearing this, but you’re my soulmate... you don’t have to say it back,” Roman added quickly and sent a shy smile Virgil’s way. “I just needed to say that. I don’t see anyone better for me than you, and I hope one day you can say the same about me.” 

Had Virgil been wearing his hoodie he would’ve pulled the hood over his head and try to hide the giant, blushing pool of heat that was his face, but seeing as he only had his tux on, he buried his face into Roman’s chest and hummed. Roman smiled at the action and kissed Virgil’s forehead once more as he cradled the man gingerly.

Some time passed and they eventually arrived at Roman’s apartment complex. Virgil got off of Roman as they went inside and climbed the stairs up to Roman’s apartment. It was some sort of unspoken understanding that Virgil was going to spend the night again, and neither of them minded. 

When they stepped inside of Roman’s apartment, the smell of dinner cooking was swelling in the air, and Roman walked over to the kitchen with Virgil not too far behind. Inside, Roman’s mom was cooking something as Fiona sat on the counter, her legs kicking back and forth and she watched her mother.

As soon as Roman entered the room, Fiona’s face lit up and she jumped into her brother’s arms, who laughed and carried her in response. Virgil watched the heartwarming scene with a grin, staring at Fiona curiously. He’s never actually seen her in person, but she didn’t look too different from what Roman had described. She had long, dark blonde hair that ran down to her waist, piercing green eyes, and a scrawny body that looked extremely light and pale, dusted in freckles. 

And despite not being diagnosed with depression or anxiety, she wore some pretty edgy clothes for a girl her age. A giant black hoodie snug around her shoulders, some kind of band shirt underneath that, and tight blue jeans that were wrapped around her scrawny legs. She almost reminded Virgil of himself, and the thought that him and Fiona had a common taste in fashion comforted him slightly.

It didn’t take long for Fiona to take notice of Virgil’s presence, and her big green eyes looked up at him from over Roman’s shoulder. “Roman,” she said slowly. “Who’s that?” At this, her mother turned her back from the stove and looked at Virgil, who, never one to like being put on the spot, waved awkwardly.

“Oh! How rude of me! Mom, Fiona, I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Virgil!” Roman cried, putting down Fiona and holding an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil smiled at the two, trying to read Roman’s mom’s expression that was completely blank at the moment as she studied him.

Then the weird silence was broken when Roman’s mom walked over to Virgil and shook his hand. “So, you’re the guy Roman’s always talking about, huh?” she said, her voice sweet but thick as if she had just swallowed a gallon of syrup. “Nice to meet you, Virgil.”

“Same to you, Ms. Prince,” Virgil spoke carefully, and the women laughed. Her laugh was just like Roman’s, booming and demanding of attention. 

“Please, dear, call me Vanessa,” she said with a smile, and then turned back to the stove. She looked nothing like Roman, despite them having the same laugh, her hair so blonde that it was almost white and light freckles scattered around herself like Fiona. Her nose was pointer, her eyes were a watery blue, and she was about as short as Virgil, which was saying something. 

“Just give me and Fiona a sec and we’ll be out of you two’s hair,” she said and Virgil shook his head. Then he realized she couldn’t see him and cleared his throat.

“It’s fine, Ms- I mean, Vanessa. I can leave, really,” Virgil insisted, but now Vanessa shook her head and turned to the two boys. 

“No. Fiona has another sleepover tonight with her friend Tammy, so we won’t be back until late morning,” she explained and Virgil nodded. “In the meantime, you two boys can hang around you like and Fiona and I will be finished eating soon.”

Roman smiled at Virgil, and the two were about to leave for the common area when Virgil felt a tug on his shirt. He looked down at Fiona, who looked up at him with the same big eyes and gaping mouth. 

“Hi, Fiona,” Virgil greeted softly, and the girl snapped out of her trance and smirked.

“Hello, Ver- Vir-?”

“Virgil.”

“Oh. Virgil,” she corrected. “Virgil, are you Roman’s soulmate?”

Virgil’s eyes flung open wide and Roman intervened by putting a protective hand to Virgil’s chest and chuckled nervously. “Fiona,” he scolded. “That’s a very rude question to ask, and you know it!”

“Oh. Sorry,” she said in an unapologetic voice and stared up at Virgil again. “I like your hair. I like you. I hope you marry Roman.”

With that, she left the kitchen to the bathroom, most likely to wash up for dinner, and Virgil watched her soundlessly. Vanessa must have been listening to the locomotion because she looked behind her and smiled sympathetically at Virgil.

“Sorry about her. She likes to speak her mind about a lot of things,” Vanessa said and began to scoop her and Fiona’s dinner into plates. “Not a big hit around Thanksgiving, let me tell you that.” And she laughed as Virgil shrugged. He oddly didn’t feel too uncomfortable about Fiona’s comments. 

“It’s okay. I don’t really mind. Fiona’s... cool,” Virgil said and Vanessa grinned faintly as she put she plates on the table. It’s done in such a manner that Virgil feels bad he didn’t offer to help her, and he’s about to open his mouth and apologize when Vanessa’s eyes flick up to his again.

There’s a shift in the air and they both sense it and Vanessa’s face tilts a bit as she stares at Virgil. “So your father killed my husband,” she said abruptly, and Roman is quick to scold her too after Virgil’s face flushed. 

“Mom!” 

“I- I’m sorry,” Virgil said anyways, but Vanessa shakes her head hastily.

“No. No, don’t be. It’s not your fault, hon. I know,” she said, and her eyes deft downwards. “I just want you to know I could never hate you for what your father did. After all, who are we to take responsibility for the actions of people just because we share the same blood, huh?”

Virgil smiled at this and Roman pulls him out of the kitchen as Fiona enters it, giving a Virgil a long stare before smiling at the end. Virgil smiled back and is plopped on the couch as Roman sits beside him. It doesn’t take long for Roman to find the remote and turn on the T.V as Virgil curled up in his lap. The Little Mermaid is on, and Roman explained it was Fiona’s favorite and she probably was watching it earlier, but they keep it on anyways.

It’s more of background noise as Roman leaned next to Virgil, sliding his arms around his waist and saying, “Sorry about them, by the way. They don’t really know what privacy is.”

“It’s fine. I’m serious,” Virgil said again, and Roman pecked his lips with a hum.

“Okay, babe. If you insist,” Roman sighed. “Just tell me if they get to be too much. Mom has been through a lot, and now she just assumes everyone is an open book.”

“What happened?” Virgil asked. 

“I told you she was a nurse, right? Well, she was a special kind of nurse, actually. An army nurse,” Roman explained quietly, sneaking glances at the kitchen right next to them. “She saw a lot of shit out in the field and it kinda scarred her but it made her stronger. When she came back home she met Garfield and then there’s me and Fiona.”

“Ah,” was all Virgil could say, cuddling closer to Roman and they watched Little Mermaid until Fiona and Vanessa waved goodbye to them and left. Then Roman got up, leaving Virgil curled up near a pillow and came back soon with a bowl of ice cream, and handed it to Virgil. It had been forever since Virgil had ever had ice cream, and he didn’t try to hide his enthusiasm. 

Virgil took it immediately and tried shoving it down his mouth, and Roman had to take the bowl away from him with a laugh. “Virgil, you’re gonna choke, baby,” Roman said softly, wiping Virgil mouth with his sleeve. Virgil whimpered, eyeing the bowl with a pout, and Roman shook his head.

“You’re gonna get it all over your suit too,” Roman added, and Virgil scoffed.

“To hell with my suit. You know the last time I had ice cream? Yeah, me neither,” Virgil spat, reaching for the bowl again, but Roman set it away from him on the coffee table. 

“Fine. If you don’t want to take off your suit, I’ll do it,” Roman said and Virgil let him reach over and undress him until all that was left his lavender button-up. Virgil automatically started reaching for the melting ice cream again, but Roman tutted as he grabbed his arms.

“Virgil, do you remember what I told you the night Valerie told you about your dad and stuff?” he asked gently.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Princey.” Virgil didn’t see what this had to do with him getting that goddamn ice cream into his mouth, and frankly he could feel what was left of his patience burning out.

“I said I wanted to take care of you, and spoil you, and feed you as I tell you how pretty you are,” Roman purred and Virgil blushed.

“You- you’re serious?” Virgil asked and Roman nodded.

“Unless you don’t want to, of course-“

“Please,” Virgil said, and Roman smiled as Virgil leaned back against the armrest of the sofa. So Roman grabbed the bowl and spoon again, seating himself cross-legged across from Virgil. 

He slowly scooped out the first spoonful of ice cream and brought it to Virgil’s lips who opened obediently and swallowed it whole. Virgil hummed, closing his eyes as he leaned back even more, suddenly understanding what it felt like to be in heaven without actually dying. 

Roman softly chuckled and started to say, “You’re so pretty, Virge. So, so pretty.” Virgil’s face softened, eyes still closed as he open his mouth, ready for more. Roman swiftly brought another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, and Virgil sighed blissfully. 

“I think you’re the prettiest man on earth, Virge. Everything about you is so pretty,” Roman continued. Another spoon of ice cream. Then another. Virgil’s brain was short-circuiting now, trying to hold on to what little restraint he had left.

“So pretty. The prettiest man on earth and he’s all mine. I love you, Virge,” Roman cooed, letting Virgil have the last of the ice cream, and now Virgil has leaned so close to him he was practically straddling Roman. 

When he was done, Roman tossed the bowl and spoon on the coffee table and held Virgil close to him, his hands placed on the boy’s hips as Virgil’s arms slid around his neck. Then they’re kissing. And Virgil’s mouth tastes like vanilla, which only makes Roman dive in for more after the first peck, making the kisses long and deep until they’re both panting. 

Virgil makes a sound like “mmph” and grabs Roman’s face, tilting it so that he could have more access to his mouth. And then Virgil’s tongue swipes against Roman’s lips desperately and Roman immediately lets Virgil’s tongue slip into his mouth and trace patterns on his own tongue. 

Roman doesn’t know how long they’re like that, just that at some point Virgil starts to whimper. Roman readied himself to lean back and ask what was wrong, but then Virgil is fisting at his suit, and Roman knows. He breaks the kiss quickly and takes off the entirety of the upper half of his suit. 

Now Roman’s shirtless and he’s honestly sort of shocked when Virgil starts to suck on the crook of his collarbone at the sight. This is definitely getting more heated than Roman had intended it to, but he’s not complaining, especially when Virgil makes a trail of kisses up his neck and bites at a place a bit more sensitive than the rest. Roman couldn’t help it, he moaned and at about the same time Virgil does too.

Then Virgil is devouring Roman’s mouth again, and he starts talking in between wet kisses. “Roman.” Roman whined. “Shit- I need to- ahh...” Roman moaned again at the sound Virgil made against his lips. “Ro, please.”

“What?” Roman squeaks, and he cracks one eye open to see Virgil looking up at him, pupils blown wide with desire. Then he looked down and Roman followed his eyes to the small bulge in his pants. “Oh.”

Virgil looked back up at Roman, licking his lips almost seductively and it isn’t until then did Roman notice how their hips had been rolling against each other, God knows for how long. Roman looks back down curiously, and sees he is in a state similar to Virgil, and he bites at his lower lip. 

“Do you-“

“Yes,” Virgil answered before Roman could finish, his voice dropping an octave lower than usual, rumbling in his chest so that it’s just about the sexiest thing Roman’s ever heard. 

Without another word, Roman lifted Virgil up and walked down the hall to his bedroom. Virgil’s never been inside, but he doesn’t really look around, focusing on Roman’s red face instead with a smile. But then he groans, feeling need wash over him again.

Roman set him down on the bed and loomed over him, taking in Virgil’s shaking and panting figure. “Are- are you sure you want to-?” Roman asked slowly, and Virgil nodded feverishly. Roman smiled softly. Who was he to deprive his love from what he wanted?

But still Roman took his time, making sure he doesn’t do anything too hastily as to scare Virgil away, and an hour or two later they were both asleep cuddled next to each other and dressed again, snoring blissfully in one another’s arms.

 

Virgil woke up with a snort, his eyelids fluttering open before realizing he wasn’t in his own bed. Because Roman is right beside him, snoring soundly.

Virgil throws his head back on the pillow, sighing as he ran his hands over his face, trying to recall the details of the night before. When he does, his chest strummed and he feels a weightless feeling take over him. He looked over at Roman, who’s still as handsome as ever, even in his sleep, but his eyes grudgingly shift open.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Virgil greeted gently, and Roman smiled lightly. 

“Hi, Virge,” Roman said, voice slurred with sleep, his eyes heavy and threatening to close again, but he forced them open as he stared at Virgil as if he couldn’t ever look away. “How’re you feeling?”

“‘M fine,” Virgil yawned, snuggling against Roman again, his mind still too hazy to function properly. “How ‘bout you?”

“Never been better,” Roman answered and yawned as well, carding a hand through Virgil’s hair. 

There’s a long silence that washed over them, and Virgil’s almost sure Roman went back to sleep, and he was about to do just the same when Roman said, “Virgil?”

“Hmm?” Virgil said, refusing to open his eyes again.

“I- I promise I’m never going to lose you again,” Roman said, filled with determination though his voice was still tired. He mumbled the word “never” a few more times absently and Virgil smiled. 

“Okay,” Virgil responded, and Roman could sense the achingly sweet sincerity in his voice.

“I promise,” Roman repeated, holding onto Virgil tighter. Virgil allowed himself to drift back into a zone in between consciousness and sleep. Another quiet passed over them, and the warmth of the light spilling in through the window became more and more apparent as the time passed.

“Virgil,” Roman whispered once more, and Virgil hummed. “Virgil, I want to marry you. Would you marry me?” It’s a drowsy but playful proposal, and Roman doesn’t mean anything by it, but at the same time he means everything by it. 

“Yes,” Virgil answered without hesitation and Roman grinned. 

“I can see us growing old together, Virgil. We could get married, live in a house together, and- and...” Roman’s voice trailed off as he drifts slowly back to sleep. But Virgil stayed awake, letting the words linger in the morning air. 

And for once he doesn’t argue against them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! guys I don't do a lot of notes but this is important. The last couple of chapters are a little... heavy, to state it simply. If you are the least bit triggered by any of the triggers in the tags please be careful if you read them. If you are sensitive to any of them and you don't feel you can read the last two, that is completely okay. This is a good point to call the ending for you. I hope you enjoyed :) For those who think they can manage, stay safe, and I love you all. I'll see you next week


	9. Curtains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT, GUYS. This chapter and the next one are very heavy with sensitive triggers!! Read ALL the triggers and make sure they are things you feel you can read about!! Also, don't read these if you're currently in a really bad mental state! I really need you guys to stay safe out there. I love you all. And please, please, please take caution as you read. I don't want to accidentally hurt someone. And don't hate me at the end <3

It was happening again.

Roman wiped a hand across his face, feeling his hot tears smear across it and he whimpered. He had been crying for the better part of the night now, but it wasn’t anything unusual. Sometimes he just couldn’t sleep and then thoughts would come crawling into his mind, fears.

It had been about two months since that night he and Virgil had gone out together and he admitted his depression to him. Virgil had helped him out afterwards, making sure they both took their meds every day and were able to communicate during episodes. But sometimes… this would happen.

For one it was probably past three in the morning, so Roman couldn’t just call up Virgil lest he be asleep. Poor thing didn’t get much of it, Roman knew. And then there was the fact that Roman was too afraid to. It was pitiful, he knew, but every now and then he’d feel bad for letting his guard down so much in front of Virgil.

Virgil was the one who needed to be protected, not the other way around. Roman loved him too much for Virgil to worry about him even more than usual.

So Roman stayed there as worries filled his head. His mind kept drifting off to reminders that the end of high school was approaching. Then what? He wanted to apply to a New York college, make it to Broadway, but could he honestly do that?

It was a thought he seemed to be pondering more than usual recently. Maybe he shouldn’t go to New York. No way was he good enough for that yet. Roman bit his lip. His hand twitched. He didn’t deserve it. Not even his own mother thought he was a good enough actor to try, let alone make it to acting school.

Roman’s mind was in overdrive and the more he thought about it the more he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go to New York and make a fool of himself. He couldn’t leave behind everything he had here… he couldn’t leave Virgil.

Roman gasped. Virgil had told him he’d go to New York with him and hadn’t mentioned it since. He couldn’t really mean that. Roman couldn’t imagine Virgil traveling that far without regretting it and having a panic attack every two seconds. 

So Roman staying here would be perfect! 

Roman flung himself out of bed and grabbed his laptop. He opened it and powered it on, opening up the web browser as he sat back on his bed. Then he started searching.

He’d find a college to go to here. He’ll find an apartment for him. Him and Virgil. Just the two of them. That’s all he’d ever need. 

With a smile and sniffle he got to work.

-

Virgil and Patton were scrambling behind the counter of The Mind Palace, both of them rushing to get orders from customers or hand waiting ones their coffee. The morning rush of customers was growing by the minute and was almost too much to handle by the two of them alone. 

Thankfully, the hoard of customers died down soon, and Virgil and Patton both slumped over, panting and watching each other with friendly smiles. “I think... that’s the last of them, kiddo,” Patton said, out of breath. “You handled that well.”

“Thanks. You too,” Virgil said, and got back to fiddling with the register. A comfortable quiet stretched between them, and Patton spent it watching Virgil. He sure had grown from the boy he once knew when he first arrived there. Something had matured in him, and Patton didn’t know if it was because he was nearing the end of his senior year or the fact that has been in a relationship with Roman for this long. It was nice to see, to say the least. 

Virgil had dyed his hair a light purple with flecks of magenta and pink staining some strands of it and his closet had change considerably. He was still rocking the emo look, but it was more subtle now with noticeable splashes of purple mixed into all of his outfits, like now. Virgil was wearing a soft purple sweater rolled up at his elbows, dark purple skinny jeans, and brown boots. 

The lower half of his arms revealed, Patton could see the few band-aids scattered about them due to him and Roman’s new hobby, sword-fighting practice. And this time not in each other’s mouths. 

The thought of Roman suddenly nags at Patton, and the man looked at Virgil with a frown. 

“Virgil, how’re things going with Roman?” Last time he had heard from Roman he had said something about the two of them being in a fight. Patton had assumed it was no big deal because Roman didn’t elaborate and, as much as Patton hated it, the two got into arguments frequently. It was unavoidable but they all were usually resolved pretty fast.

But now Virgil flinched at the mention of his boyfriend’s name and he huffed. “Oh, that jerk? Things are going perfectly fine between us. We’ve never been better,” Virgil said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Patton gulped.

“What happened?”

Virgil breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “Nothing, Patt, it’s just that...” Virgil sighed. “Roman and I were talking about... the future. I mean, the end of the school year’s coming up, and after finals we’ll be done with high school.” Patton nodded, listening.

“So Roman found a nice apartment for us but it’s... still in Florida,” Virgil said with a scowl.

“And what’s wrong with that, kid?” Patton asked, genuinely confused.

“Patton, I thought Roman was going to college in New York! I already found a good school, a music school, that I want to go to and I’m trying to apply for! If we get an apartment here then I can’t go,” Virgil explained. “And when I told Roman this, he got mad and said he already talked to the guy who owned the apartments, and that he was only trying to do what’s best for me or some shit. He’s basically saying he doesn’t think I can handle moving all the way to New York without Aunt Val. Like I’m a baby, Patt!”

“Well it sounds like he cares about you-“

“No! If he did care about me then he’d know I’ve been wanting to go with New York with him!” Virgil nearly cried. “He’s only doing this because he wants to go to school here so he doesn’t leave his precious Dreamscape Theatre behind!”

Patton frowned. “Oh, Virgil. Have you seen Picani about this yet? Maybe he could offer you two advice!”

“It’s not about the apartment, Patt,” Virgil grunted. 

“Then what?” Now Patton was just confused.

“It’s about the fact that he won’t apologize,” Virgil said, tearing up now. “We were arguing... and we started yelling... and I said I was sorry. But he just looked at me!” Virgil was hiccuping now, and Patton was quick to pull him into a hug. He let Virgil sob into his shoulder until there was nothing left, and Virgil leaned back. 

“How long have you guys stopped talking?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?!” Patton squeaked. They’ve never had an argument this long, not since they’ve been seeing Dr. Picani. It unsettled Patton immensely, and he was about to offer more comforting words to Virgil when the door to the café opened.

In sashayed Roman, his prince costume on, showing that he was about to head to Dreamscape for rehearsal, and a large bouquet of purple roses in hand. Virgil eyed him with a frown as he arrived at the counter, throwing a charming smile Virgil’s way, one not unlike the one he had worn the first day they met all those days ago. 

“Hey, Virge,” Roman greeted, handing him the bouquet. Virgil took it in one swipe, still glaring at his lover. 

“Have you come to apologize?” Virgil asked with gritted teeth.

“Virgil, I know we both said some things we didn’t mean the other day, but...” Roman leaned his elbows on the counter hesitantly and Patton watched him cautiously. His hair was flopped around his face in a way that looked more Virgil’s style than Roman’s, especially with the magenta highlights he got in order to match his boyfriend’s. 

“But...” Virgil repeated, drawing out the word and waiting for Roman to say the word he’s been aching for him to for awhile now. 

“-I hope you can consider moving into that apartment with me. I can get us one with two bedrooms in the same complex if you want-“

Virgil threw the bouquet back at Roman’s face angrily. “I thought you came here to say you were sorry, you arrogant ass!” Virgil cried, ignoring the obvious attention he was drawing towards him and Roman. 

“Virgil, you’re being irrational-“

“I’m being irrational?! Me?! You’re the one who said we could move to New York together! You’re the one who said you would go to school there and be on Broadway and we’d be happy!” 

“I know, but Virgil, New York is just so far away and not to mention expensive. I found a much better school for myself here and-“

“Yourself! Exactly. All you do is think about yourself!” Virgil’s face was red now. “You and that stupid theatre of yours! Oh, I see how it is. The moment you get a dream, you pursue it. But whenever I have a dream, you tear it down like it’s yours to decide if it comes true or not!”

“Virgil, that’s not true at all. Now, listen-“

“I’m not listening until you apologize.”

“Virgil, I-“ Roman started, but closed his mouth, tangled in his own words as his boyfriend stared at him with crossed arms. “I know you’re upset, but I just want to have a life with you! And I don’t see why we can’t stay here and do that instead flying all the way up to New York!”

A fire went ablaze in Virgil’s eyes as he stared at Roman. There was a shift in the air and Patton couldn’t help but feel he was witnessing something big. His eyes looked between the two, a sort of electricity sparking between the two that reeked of memories of their first meeting. It was dangerous, it was sickening, and Patton was right in the middle of it.

Virgil finally turned his back to Roman, like a door slamming close. Patton let out a long breath and cleared his throat. “Hey, remember what Dr. Picani said about communication, guys?” he said, voice small under all the pressure in the air.

“Want me to communicate, Patton? Fine,” Virgil huffed and he turned back to Roman. His frame was noticeably shaking with anger, with sadness, with both, but the words that came out of his mouth, spat as if they were venom, still haunted Patton to this day. 

“I hate you.”

Patton watched as the impact of the words slowly sunk into Roman, and before they could get a glimpse of his betrayed face, he stormed out of The Mind Palace, bouquet in hand.

Patton’s heart stopped just watching the scene unfold before him, and Virgil turned back around as he proceeded to play around with the coffee machine casually, as if all of this was normal. And Patton couldn’t bring himself up to do anything but stare glumly before standing back at the register, looking out the window at the dark sky, and get back to work. 

-

It was raining heavily as if the clouds were spitting down bullets made out of water and Roman trudged down the wet street, looking down at his muddy shoes sorrowfully. There was a pain shoved far beneath him as he felt the weight of the bouquet in hands, and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of it and get Virgil out of his mind. But try as he might, he couldn’t. He never could.

He sighed as he made his way to the Dreamscape Theatre, finally throwing the flowers into his messenger bag as he neared his destination. Winter Wonderland was set to premier in exactly one week and he couldn’t have all these negative thoughts filling his head.

Roman sighed as he pushed open the doors to the theatre, and immediately tossed his stuff into a spare table in the hall. The rest of the cast shouldn’t be here for another twenty or so minutes, but the rest of the tech crew and such should already be there, so Roman wasn’t alone. 

He walked down the hall until he entered the stage. From over the rows of red seats Roman could see the stage and the people standing on it repainting the set, fiddling with lights, and more. “Hey, Logan!” he called out to one of the techies, and the said boy looked up and nodded at Roman as he bounded up to the stage.

“Hello, Roman. Nice to see you early for once,” Logan said. 

Roman gulped and his eyes drifted downwards after he hopped onto the stage. “Yeah. Things at the Mind Palace didn’t go so well today...” Roman mumbled sadly, voice quiet so that Logan does not hear him. 

“Well, seeing as you’re not needed for another eighteen minutes, I would say you can help around the set if you so desire or-“

Logan is interrupted when Denis stomped over to them and slung his arm around Roman’s shoulders. Roman shifted off of him with an eye roll and the boy grunted in response. “Roman! Just because we’re not friends anymore doesn’t mean you have to be so cruel!” Denis whined, but Roman said nothing and started to walk away. He was already pissed off enough as it was.

“Wait! Hold up!” Denis said, grabbing Roman’s wrist. “The director told me to tell you something important... about the show.” Roman’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Logan who nodded.

“Ah, yes. That’s right. Do you want me to tell him or do you wish to to tell him, Denis?” Logan asked. Denis waved a dismissive hand at him and smiled. 

“You go right ahead. I can handle this, Lo.”

Logan gave Roman a shrug and turned back to his crew, calling out orders as Roman stared impatiently at Denis. “Well?” he said, tapping his foot against the stage and hating every second he had to stand there and stare at the evil man.

“Here’s the deal, Roman,” Denis began, voice silky smooth with a small bit of amusement laced within it. “Long story short, the way things are going right now just isn’t cutting it. You have to understand Winter Wonderland is an emotional, impactful show, and if it isn’t played right, it won’t be right. ...Right?”

“I- I suppose? Where are you going with this, Denis?”

Denis sighed heavily. “What I’m trying to get to is, we can’t have you playing the lead anymore, Roman.”

That crashed down one Roman like a ton of bricks. His heart sped up at the words and his mouth was suddenly to dry as he stared at Denis’ smirking face. 

“You’re... you’re lying,” Roman stuttered but Denis shook his head and tutted. 

“I’m afraid I’m not, Roman. But don’t worry, I’ll be replacing you, so you know the show will be in good hands.” Denis winked wickedly at Roman, practically eating up the crestfallen expression on his face. 

“I... I don’t believe you,” Roman choked out, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Oh no. He can’t cry now. No no no-

“Tell him, Logan!” Denis called out to the techie across the stage. “Tell him he can’t be in Winter Wonderland next week!” Logan looked up from his work and he adjusted his glasses, staring at Roman who looked back at him longingly.

“Ah, yes. Denis is not lying, Roman,” Logan said and Roman’s face fell. “I’m terribly sorry about that, but what a wonderful opportunity-“

Roman didn’t stick around to hear the rest, his heart already pounding too fast and the tears pouring out too heavily and he started running. He didn’t know where, he didn’t know how, but his feet were pounding against the ground and then eventually the wet cement of the sidewalk. 

And he was panting and crying and everything was blurry and he was just running. The rain was pouring down in sheets now, and like white noise in the back of his mind Roman could hear thunder rolling in the clouds above. Roman was surprised he hadn’t slipped in a puddle at this point, but he wasn’t really thinking about it either. Just run, run, run. 

Soon his chest was burning and he could feel his legs becoming weak underneath him, so he stopped to feel the rain dripping down him and the pounding lull in his head, threatening to crack his skull open with pain. Roman heaved a bit, struggling to catch his breath, and when he did he heard a sound. 

It was faint, but still loud under Roman’s massive headache. He turned his head and squinted through his tears to stare down the street where he could’ve heard a...

There it was. The sounds of a gunshot. Roman started sprinting in that direction. This street he didn’t recognize, but there were wide alleys between all the buildings, and Roman looked through each one until he caught sight of one with two silhouettes. Quietly, he examined the scene before him behind a trash-can within the alley. 

“W-why do want to hurt m-me?” one of the bodies whimpered. It was the smaller of the two, and Roman could now see it was a blonde boy no more than fourteen years old with big round glasses, one of the lenses cracked. There were tears streaming down his face and a wide gash in the side of his cheek, and Roman felt a twang of sympathy and anger for whoever had done such a thing to an innocent-looking boy. 

“You screwed up, punk, big time. Can’t have little guys like you running around now after seeing that shit,” the other one growled. He was much taller and muscular, and Roman could see the traces of many tattoos drawn all around the guy’s arms. He was holding a gun, aimed at the sky, which is where Roman hoped he had been shooting the gun before. 

Suddenly, the gun is aimed at the little boy’s forehead, and something takes over Roman with a white, hot surge of anger. Flashes of images of his dad being killed shoot through his brain and he grits his teeth. He can’t let this poor kid share the same fate.

Roman yelled out something like a battle cry and ran in front of the little boy, which surprises the bigger one momentarily. “What the-? Who the fuck are you?” the guy asked in a gruff voice, and Roman couldn’t help but smile with all the adrenaline of the situation. 

“Your worst nightmare,” Roman said, then turned to the little boy behind him. “Run.”

“But-“

“RUN!” Roman cried, and the little kid scampered off. Roman smiled, then turned back to the guy, who towered over him with a snarl.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he said, aiming his gun to Roman’s forehead, who simply grinned up at him, even though he was shaking under the prescience of the gun staring straight back at him.

“Bet I won’t.”

The guy looks down at him, murderously, and Roman knew this was one of the stupidest things he’s ever done, but he also simply doesn’t care. Why doesn’t he care? He can’t even remember. His mind is trying to keep up with his actions, and suddenly he can’t even remember how he got there or what happened before either.

All he knows that everything is slowing down. Roman can see the guy’s finger wrapped around the trigger, he feels the droplets of water drumming against the top of his head, and the smile isn’t wiped off his face. Not even when he can see the guy’s pressing down on the trigger.

But Roman doesn’t run. He doesn’t make any attempt to leave the proximity of the gun. His muscles relax, and he feels complete at peace for the first time that day. He lets his eyes flutter close and the sound of the gun being fired numb his ears even further. Roman doesn’t flinch away and he can sense the bullet has been lodged into his head. 

He doesn’t even feel it, just a heat sinking into him, spreading a warmth around his body and he falls back to the ground below. A haziness passed over him and his eyes struggle to blink back open. Everything has happened so fast, so sudden. But this moment felt slow, drawn out and Roman’s line of thought was slipping away from him until he feels his brain trying frantically to remember something. Someone. A person. His mind was trying to remember a person. 

“Virgil,” he whispered, finally remembering, and the smile once faint on his lips grew wider at the thought of his love. 

And he shut his eyes one last time on the wet alley ground. Still smiling, still at peace. But no longer alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, again, please don't hate me too much for that. Seriously, stay safe <3 I don't mean to hurt anyone by any of this. Love you guys. See you next week for the last, final chapter


	10. And He Lived

Virgil walked out of The Mind Palace, humming softly to himself as he walked out on the still-wet ground, though the rain was starting to slow down faintly. His morning shift was over, and Patton suggested he leave while he could while he waited around for Joan and Talyn. 

But Virgil didn’t walk a mere two steps when the noise of police sirens suddenly filled his ears. It sent shivers up his spine, as the sound always did when he heard it, and some memories of nine years ago would fill his head. The police cars drove by him and he counted them. 

One, two, three. And an ambulance to go with it. Virgil sighed, but even after they whizzed by him the strange feeling cling to him. Something wasn’t right, and he shuddered again. He trekked on a bit further, but yet another sound stopped him, but this time it was a voice, desperate, urgent, and sad all at the same time.

“Virgil!” it cried. Patton.

Virgil turned around as fast as he could and ran down back to The Mind Palace, only to see Patton staring at him, wide-eyed and leaning on the doorway for support. He’s shaking, and Virgil’s about to ask him if he’s having a heart attack when Patton started talking.

“Car. Now. Hurry,” Patton gasped, running into the parking lot of the café toward his car, a small blue thing that Virgil had never rode in before.

“Patton, what the hell’s the matter?” Virgil grunted, catching up to him and slipping into the passenger seat. Some sort of fear was starting to sink into Virgil and he felt his chest start to rise and fall quicker and quicker as Patton hurriedly turned on the car. 

“It’s Roman. He’s hurt.”

Those words slam into Virgil and he made a noise, something in between a gasp and a choking sound. The cars. The ambulance. It clicks into place with a sickening snap inside Virgil’s mind. 

“Wha- how-“ Virgil is sputtering as all color drains from his face and his body is rocking. Patton drives the car out of the parking lot and onto the road as fast as he can manage, and Virgil feels like he’s about to puke. He can see it in his head, his vomit splattered all over the window and dashboard, but he gulped the feeling down.

“I don’t know. That’s all his mom said when she called me. We’re gonna meet her at the hospital,” Patton explained as he sped through the streets, and Virgil had to close his eyes so that he didn’t throw-up from all the dizzying colors spinning around him. 

Roman. Hurt. He had spent his whole relationship trying to avoid hearing those two words together. Virgil wanted to sob, wanted to cry out, but he’s too drowned with shock and terror to do much of anything.

When he and Patton arrive at the hospital they immediately run out, just as the ambulance pulls up to the white building. Virgil tried to throw himself at the vehicle, trying to see Roman, but Patton holds him back, almost unable to watch himself. There are too many people. Too many people pouring out of the ambulance and the hospital, and soon Vanessa and Logan are surrounding Virgil and watching.

Then Virgil sees him. Just a glimpse of him, sprawled out on a stretcher, and his face, covering in dark, dribbling blood. This time Virgil does cry out, but Patton holds him back again, crying too as they watch Roman go in through the hospital. 

“Just... give them some space, kiddo, and l-let them do their job,” Patton said, voice wobbly, but Virgil doesn’t listen. His heart is beating too hard in his ear, his blood is pumping too fast within him and he sprints inside, behind the masses of people in uniforms. He hears the others running behind him, but all he’s focused on is trying to see Roman. The stretcher and the people disappear through a door and doctor comes up to him, clamping two hands on his shoulders. 

“Sorry, son. You can’t go past this point,” he explained. “What’s your name?”

What was his name? Something... something starting with a V, or something. But all that Virgil can think about is Roman, Roman, Roman, and he continued to eye the closed doors. 

“V-Virgil,” he’s eventually able to say.

“Are you friends with the young man that just went through there?”

“Yes. I’m- I’m his boyfriend.” A damn cruddy one. A damn, bullshitting excuse for a boyfriend. 

The doctor nods and he leads Virgil down to a waiting room and Vanessa, Logan, and Patton follow behind him. They all sit together in the empty room smelling too strongly of sanitizer with Virgil seated in between Logan and Patton, his legs bouncing up and down in nervous energy. 

Some time passes and he gets up to pace around the room. A million thoughts run through and out of his mind, each one more horrifying than the last, and try as he might to shut them down, he can’t help but think them. 

What had happened to Roman? Was it Virgil’s fault? Oh God, of course it was Virgil’s fault. Now Roman was hurt and in the hospital and the last thing his boyfriend told him was that he hated him. What a fucking idiot. What a stupid moron Virgil was, he thought as he bit his thumbnail, chipping away the black nail polish there. 

The tears finally start dripping down his face, falling in rhythm with the steady rain outside. If there was ever a moment Virgil had hated himself in his life it was now. And when he looked up at his friends, Patton is holding out his arms.

Virgil jumped into them with a sob and buried his head into the crook of his neck. The two cry together and soon Logan joined them and so did Vanessa. They stay like that until the door opens and the doctor walks in.

They separate and Virgil stood weakly in front of him. They all watch him, waiting for him to say something, anything. Virgil’s mind buzzed and became a broken record. Roman. Roman. Roman. Where was Roman? Roman, Roman.

The doctor opens his mouth to say something, and Virgil can hear the air stiffen and senses everyone in the room lean in closer. But then he closed his mouth and gave them all a sad look as he shook his head. 

And that’s all Virgil needed to collapse onto the ground and scream. 

 

Roman died that day at seventeen years old, February 14. Valentine’s Day, of all days. 

After his death the police told Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Vanessa the story. Roman had gotten shot by some guy in an alley in attempt to save a kid he didn’t know. It was the dumbest way to die that Virgil had ever heard, but that was Roman. Always putting others before himself, being everyone’s knight in shining armor, even after Virgil had claimed he always only cared about himself the morning of his death. 

But no matter how much the police had insisted it was a murder, Virgil couldn’t help but feel it was a suicide, in a twisted way. Sure, Roman had been killed by someone else’s hand—who the cops were still trying to apprehend, and spoiler alert, they never did—but Roman had reason to die. He probably was going to commit suicide anyways, Virgil thought after hearing about what happened at the theatre mixed in with him and his argument with Roman. What a stupid, petty thing that argument seemed like now.

And that was another thing, the thing that went down at the theatre. It was true, Roman wasn’t going to be able to play the lead in Winter Wonderland for the premier the following week, and it was the only part Logan confirmed. What Denis has lied to Roman about was everything else. Roman wasn’t kicked out of the show, just for the opening night, and it wasn’t because he wasn’t talented.

Quite the opposite in fact. Roman had been invited for a week long trip to New York to go to the place he had dreamed of his whole life, Broadway. Some directors there had wanted to meet with him on account of his performances and experience in stage so that he may start working there as soon as he graduated. Then Roman would’ve been able to come back in time to do the rest of the performances for Winter Wonderland and finish senior year. ‘Would’ve’ was the key word there. 

Virgil didn’t know exactly what happened to Denis. Rumors were spread about how he was kicked out of the Dreamscape Theatre and forced to get a job as a fast food worker. Others said he went to juvenile for some amount of time, but Virgil didn’t exactly believe that one as much since Denis didn’t actually participate in the crime. But whatever happened, Denis Cire was never seen again.

A week after Roman’s death Virgil went to see Dr. Picani for an individual appointment, but Patton still came along for support. Both of them sat on the seats in his office as Dr. Picani’s gaze shifted uneasily between the two. 

“I- I want to start off by saying I’m sorry-“

“Don’t. It’s okay, man,” Virgil cut him off, and Patton sent him a scolding look.

“What he means is thank you, Picani. But it’s not your fault,” Patton corrected for his friend.

Dr. Picani tried to smile, but it’s extremely hard to when grief is so thick in the air between them all. “I guess I should ask how your feeling, Virge, but...” Picani’s voice trailed off and Virgil looked down at his fingers, absently twiddling together.

“Yeah. I’m- I’m not doing too good,” Virgil responded, and a single tear dropped down from his eye. 

“Now, I’m not usually a counselor for grief, but I figured you’d want to see me one last time, so just say what’s on your mind,” Dr. Picani explained, giving Virgil an encouraging nod. Patton placed a hand on Virgil’s knee and Virgil took a deep breath. 

“A lot. There’s a lot that’s on my mind. There’s been a lot in mind these past few days and, uh...” Virgil stopped to cough as two more tears stream down him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him. About everything that happened, what it all lead up to. These concepts of happy endings and soulmates... I have a lot of regrets, but I have a lot of... not-regrets. I don’t know. I just know that I miss him. That I wish I could go back and make his last day on earth not as horrible. Or at least stop myself from telling him I hated him and letting that be the last thing he ever hears come out of my mouth. Because it’s not true. God, it’s not true.”

Virgil’s body shook a bit with intensity and he lets out a quiet sob. “He made me feel special, he made me feel like everything when my whole life I’ve been told I was nothing. I’m such a selfish bitch for never seeing it before, and now it’s too late. He-“ Virgil choked on the words. “He’s gone.”

A hush falls around the room and Dr. Picani asked, “And what about you, Virgil? You’re still taking care of yourself?”

Virgil shrugged. “You mean am I still eating? Yeah. And I’m still taking my meds. I’m not gonna commit suicide. I mean, Patton and Valerie kinda make sure that I don’t and that I’m still doing everything I’m supposed to be doing, but... something also tells me Roman wouldn’t have wanted me to kill myself just because he’s dead.”

Dr. Picani nodded. “Usually the death of a person causes one to ponder about the concepts of life and death. Have you-?“

“Well, yeah,” Virgil answered quickly. “It’s made me realize how much I took everything for granted. How my stupid sadistic thinking nearly ruined my life. But it’s also what drew Roman in... I think. For awhile at the beginning of our relationship I was worried that I was being proven wrong.”

“Proven wrong about what?”

“That happy endings don’t exist.“

“And were you wrong?”

“No. But I wasn’t right either.”

Dr. Picani gave him a confused look, and Virgil sighed. 

“Look, I was right about one thing; love and life never end well. Not when we’re all fated for tragedy,” Virgil said then but his lip. “But... but I was wrong about another; the parts in the middle can actually be good… and worth it.” 

“And you don’t think you can achieve that true, happy ending anymore?” Dr. Picani asked curiously, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his lips. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because he’s not here anymore. Because he was my happily ever after. Because… Roman was my soulmate.”

Virgil had only wished he would’ve figured it out sooner.

There wasn’t much else to say, and Virgil and Patton had to leave anyways if they wanted to get to the funeral on time. Somehow Patton had managed to throw Virgil into a tux that morning, one that was completely made up of shades of crisp violet. On any other occasion, Virgil would’ve jumped for joy at the sight of it, but today was not a day for that.

Virgil and Patton had spent their time getting each other ready, Patton simply throwing on a boring black suit and combing his hair back slightly. But Virgil put on his suit and then proceeded to gel his hair back, except for one annoying strand that stuck to his forehead. His face was caked in white foundation and dark makeup, even if he knew he was going to cry again at the funeral. He didn’t seem to really care, though.

When he and Patton got the funeral Logan was the first to greet him in a dark blue suit, hugging both of them tightly and gives an extra nod to Vigil, who nodded back. Then Vanessa joined them, holding Fiona’s hand, who looked up at Virgil. 

“Hi, Virgil,” she greeted, voice like stone. Virgil crouched to her level and ruffled her hair as best as he could since it was pulled back into two braids. 

“Hey, Fiona. Are you okay?” Virgil asked. Fiona shrugged, and the melancholy expression on her didn’t need words. Virgil pulled her into a hug, and she lightly cried into his shoulder as Patton, Logan, and Vanessa talked above them. 

“He loved you. A lot, Virgil,” Fiona mumbled into his ear and Virgil nodded.

“I know. He loved you a lot too.”

“I know. But not like you, Virgil. Not like you.”

They all walk over to the array of chairs set on the field of the church before them. Roman would’ve wanted a funeral outside, so that’s what he was getting. On a platform in front of them is a coffin, made of smooth dark wood. As they all neared it Virgil could feel his breath shortening, and they all sat together in the front row as more people piled into chairs.

At some point, the funeral conductor walked in and started speaking, but all Virgil can look at is Roman’s coffin. Roman was in there. But Roman couldn’t hold him anymore. He couldn’t card a hand through his hair and kiss him anymore. He couldn’t do anything anymore because he was dead. Dead, dead, dead. For some reason, Virgil just couldn’t seem to get that through his head.

At some point, the man stopped talking and Logan took his place. He, Patton, and Virgil had all prepared eulogies, Vanessa being too depressed and sort of shocked still about the whole thing to really put something together. Virgil felt especially bad for her, being a single mother and losing her eldest child that was about to graduate. Virgil couldn’t imagine it. 

“My name is Logan Crofter, Roman’s best friend. We’ve known each other for quite awhile, for about four years in fact, and while we never were the most... similar of individuals, we certainly went through thick and thin together,” Logan said, and smiled faintly. “If it weren’t for Roman, I wouldn’t be pursuing the career I am now. In Roman’s second year of high school Roman was going to audition for the musical, just as he did the year before, but this time he dragged me into it. I was a senior at the time and I signed up for tech crew. It changed my life, to say the least. Roman changed my life. Now I’m going to going to school for Technical Theatre instead of Chemical Engineering. And I couldn’t be happier with how that turned out.”

Logan was crying a bit now, which made Virgil shudder. Before Roman died he’d never seen the nerd cry, but he certainly was now, his voice stuttering over some words of his speech. “B-but, of course this isn’t about me. This is about Roman, a man who’s smile never failed to brighten any room he walked into, a man who always put others before himself. Most importantly, however, Roman was a friend, the greatest friend I could’ve asked for. Thank you.”

Some people clapped, some people nodded as they cried, and Logan sat back down next to Virgil. The two hugged, holding onto one another tightly as Patton went to stand on the podium. When they broke apart, Logan patted a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as the latter smiled sadly up at him.

“Not bad, pocket protector,” Virgil said, and Logan chuckled slightly.

“Ah, I see you will be the one keeping on with the creative nicknames,” Logan commented, and Virgil shrugged. 

“Hey, somebody’s gotta do it.”

Patton began his speech, and Virgil and Logan listened to him ramble on about memories of Roman. Roman getting his first role in a musical in middle school, Roman standing up to bullies on the playground that were picking on the little kids in elementary school, Roman always bringing his friends ice cream when they were having a bad day. Roman this, Roman that.

Virgil felt warm tears falling down his face as Patton continued to recount stories of Roman’s youth. He really was a prince in all meaning of the word. Virgil’s heart thudded as his eyes slowly traveled from Patton’s face to Roman’s coffin. A warmth drizzled through him as he stared at it, his body knowing Roman was there, he was right there-! But he had to shove it down, the urge to run up to it, open it, and see Roman’s face one last time.

Virgil knew that would only make him feel worse. Roman’s face would be cold, and dead, no longer full of life. He couldn’t imagine it, but he knew that would be the case. Though the doctor had said he died with a smile on his face. How could that have been? What had put that smile there when he knew he was about to die? Virgil didn’t know. He would never know. 

At some point, Patton sat down and was squeezed into an embrace by Logan, but Virgil was too caught up in his thoughts too register this. Someone else went up to the podium, a guy Virgil didn’t recognize, but from his speech explained he was a friend of Roman’s and a theatre kid just like him. 

Virgil didn’t really listen to it, though. He tried to, but all he could do was stare at Roman’s coffin and fill with anxiety when he realized he would have to stand up there, on that very podium, next. Looking around there wasn’t too-too much people there, but enough to make Virgil squirm of fear. Fear that they’d judge him, fear that his eulogy was too tacky and they’d hate it, fear that he was going to let Roman down again at his goddamn funeral. 

The boy on the podium finished and Virgil knew it was his turn. His blood ran cold and he swallowed, feeling Logan and Patton’s eyes on him. He stared at them and they gave him each a thumbs-up. He grinned back, standing up as he took a deep breath. He could feel everyone looking at him now, their eyes burning into the back of his head. From how much he had already cried he knew there were several black lines marked down his face, and now Virgil assumed he looked like a reject from an 80’s horror movie. God, they probably were already snickering behind him because of his ridiculous purple hair and tux. They hated him already, oh God-

But then Virgil looked up at Roman’s coffin again and he felt everything melt away. He was doing this for Roman. Not him. 

So Virgil walked up to the podium, slowly, each step heavier than the last until he finally made it to the microphone stand, and he looked over the sea of people that had been apart of Roman’s life. Vanessa and Fiona sat in the front row, the pain in both their faces too indescribable for Virgil to look at, Patton and Logan right beside them, Patton leaning into Logan and sobbing quietly into his shirt, Aunt Val sniffing into a tissue, and then he looked down at his own hands. They shook as he wrapped them around the cold surface of the microphone handle and he gulped. He didn’t dare look up again as he opened his mouth carefully and began...

“My name is Virgil Hernandez, and I hated life. I hated life because of this, because of death. My... my mother died when I was eight years old, murdered by her own husband. I let her mistake of falling in love with someone she shouldn’t have shape my entire view on life and romance. I truly believed ever since then that love was the worst thing you could ever have in you life, because at one point or another one of you is going to leave, and you’ll feel more alone than ever.” 

Virgil paused to look over at the coffin beside him, running his hand gingerly over the smooth, cool wood. He felt his lower lip tremble and tears gloss his eyes, his burning throat aching to close up and silence forever, but he pushed on. 

“I wish I could stand here and tell you I was completely wrong about that. I really, really do. But even if love hurts like hell—and I don’t think I’ve ever found a thing that doesn’t—I was wrong to think it wasn’t worth the pain. I could tell you so many things about Roman Prince; he was the light of my life, he was everything to me... he- he was my soulmate. I never even got the chance to tell him that. B-but I’m going to tell you something else instead, something that if I told myself about one year ago I would’ve laughed myself sick; I don’t regret falling in love with Roman one bit. I- I was right. I was horribly right when I said all love ends in torture, but I don’t care. I don’t care because Roman showed me that someone truly caring for you is something that you only experience once in your lifetime.”

Virgil looked up at the crowd seeing every eye looking at him, some wet with tears, some wide with interest, all of them hanging onto his every word. 

“You don’t get used to death. You push people away, you cry for the ones you lost to come back, you try so hard not to get attached to anyone else ever again. But don’t. Happily ever afters may not exist, I know that much, but true love does. I loved Roman, and I still do, more than anything else in the world. Which is why I’m going to make sure to do something for him, and I encourage you to do the same; live life, get heartbroken, but at the very least, die alive. That’s all the ending we could all ever need... I promise.”

Virgil’s eyes scanned over everyone, who were all silent for a good minute after he finished. A breeze of wind whipped at his face and hair, and he realized then what a beautiful day it actually was. The sun was shining, but not too bright, white puffy clouds hung in the air, and the air held a fragrance that smelled distinctly of honey and strawberries. 

Virgil looked back down at Roman’s coffin, and as he did he heard it. The sounds of applause, starting off small but then growing so that it was booming into Virgil’s ears. Everyone was standing, crying, and clapping, staring at Virgil with pure adoration and Virgil smiled softly back. 

He went to go sit next to Patton and Logan again, and the two were quick to embrace him, patting his back and telling him how good he did in between sobs. They stayed like that for awhile, and even through the closing part of the ceremony, they stayed in each other’s arms. Virgil let the feeling of Patton’s hand rubbing his back and Logan’s hands threaded into his hair comfort him until his tears ran out, and everyone got up to leave. 

Virgil stood up, slightly dizzy, and was immediately wrapped up in the embrace of Vanessa, with little Fiona clinging to his leg. “I’m sorry-“ Vanessa began in a watery voice, but Virgil shushed her.

“No, I’m sorry, Vanessa. Roman was your son, not mine,” Virgil said as they leaned off one another, but Fiona still clung to his leg. 

Vanessa gave him a smile, tight and sad so that all was left of her lips was a thin, pink line, and she wiped her eyes. “Yes, well, I can see you were very close to him too. I’m no expert on romance now, that was more of him and his dad’s thing, but if you say you two were soulmates I’m not arguing against you.” 

Virgil nodded, and he hugged her again before leaning down to pick up Fiona.

“Are you gonna go, Virgil?” Fiona asked, and the question made Virgil frown.

“What? No, of course not, Fiona,” he said, but she shook her head.

“No, no. Go to college far away,” she explained and Virgil cocked his head. 

“Yes, I wish to know as well,” Logan said from behind them, one arm wrapped around Patton’s waist, who was still crying into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Patton and I will miss you dearly if you do end up going to that college in New York that you mentioned to him.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think... I think I’ll be heading up there to do music,” he said with a shrug, eyes drifting to Roman’s coffin. Something like shame tugged at him but he swallowed it down.

Eventually, they had to say goodbye to Vanessa and Fiona as they left in their van, leaving Logan, Patton, and Virgil the only ones left after Virgil told Aunt Valerie he would be hanging with the guys. Logan has taken a cab to get there, so they all piled into Patton’s car and went over to Logan and Patton’s apartment. 

The place was small but homey, and Patton told Virgil to make himself comfortable as Logan and him made sandwiches in the kitchen. So Virgil took off his suit, aside from the pants and the lavender shirt underneath, and sprawled himself out on the couch to think for a little while, or as much as he could with all the racket of Logan and Patton in the kitchen, Patron attempting to sing the lyrics to some pop song in order to make himself feel better. 

Virgil stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, breathing slowly. So Roman was dead. Virgil thought that that thought finally got through his dumb heart, and now all he felt was numb. All the things they wanted to do together, all the things that could’ve been. They could’ve gotten an apartment together-- and Virgil didn’t even care where at that point--and gotten married, and loved each other for many years. So many years, so little time. 

Virgil was starting to give himself a headache. But there was still an itch inside him. He wanted to see Roman one last time, one final time before he was buried tomorrow morning. His body twitched at the thought of seeing Roman again, dead or not, and he sighed.

He was going to move on—no, move forward—from this, he had to, but he just had to see him one last time.

Logan and Patton finished with the sandwiches and they all ate together, watching some sitcom on T.V as they talked about the future, Patton in Logan’s lap and Virgil on the other side with his knees curled up to his chest. 

“Do you want to spend the night, Virge?” Patron asked, the question was posed as not much of a question, but rather an order.

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled, toying with his leftover crust. “I’ll call Aunt Val later and tell her.”

Patton beamed at this and the three spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing, and though Virgil felt safe and calm with the two, something was missing that none of them addressed. Not until Patton started crying again and they all gathered each other into each other’s arms, bawling softly. 

That evening, a game show was on the T.V and an abandoned Monopoly board was spread across the coffee table. Logan and Patton had fallen asleep, curled up together, but Virgil was awake, staring lazily at the floor until he looked up at his two snoring friends.

Virgil slowly got off the sofa, carefully as not to wake them, and crept out of the apartment after shoving his phone and Patton’s keys into his pocket. As soon as he was on the other side of the door, he scurried out, down the stairs and out to the parking lot. He sat himself in Patton’s car and drove off, all the way back to outside of the church where Roman’s coffin still stood on the podium, ready to be buried in a few more hours. 

Virgil got out of the car and ran over to the podium, running his hands across the coffin carefully before opening up the lid. Virgil wanted to cry out of relief or of sadness, he couldn’t quite tell which, and the sight of Roman filled up his vision. His soulmate, who once said his one true happy ending would be knowing he found his soulmate, and Virgil never got to tell him he did.

They never got the chance to become what they wanted to be.

Roman looked so at peace, his face calm and a slight grin planted on it. They had put him in a nice suit. He was so, so handsome, Virgil thought as he lightly ran a hand down his face, tracing his lips hesitantly as he sobbed. Virgil leaned off of him and pulled out his phone, tapping on a song in his music library that wasn’t quite like the others and it began to play softly. 

“What A Wonderful World” spilled out from the phone and Virgil shoved it in his shirt pocket so that it was still audible and he sang along, still running a hand down Roman’s face as he did so.

“I see trees of green, red roses too  
I see them bloom for me and you  
And I think to myself what a wonderful world...”

Virgil’s hands ran through his hair. Even now it was fluffy, easy to thread his fingers through as he played with its slight red-brown curls streaked with magenta. 

“I see skies of blue and clouds of white  
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night  
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.”

His eyelashes, his nose, his lips, which Virgil kissed softly for the last time. The sensation was bittersweet, and when he leaned back he started to cry harder.

“The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky  
Are also on the faces of people going by  
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do  
They're really saying I love you.”

Virgil crashed onto his knees now, crying rounds after rounds of tears, gasping to catch his breath, but his hands stayed wrapped around the rim of the coffin. His voice was rough and hoarse, but he continued singing anyways. 

“I hear babies crying, I watch them grow  
They'll learn much more than I'll never know  
And I think to myself what a wonderful world  
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.”

For that night, Virgil didn’t go home or back to Patton and Logan’s apartment, but stayed by Roman’s side, crying and grieving until the morning sun fell over him.

And he lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end. Thank you so much to everyone who read & enjoyed this story and especially to those who gave kudos, commented, and subscribed!! I hope you had a fun time reading just as I had a fun time writing this!! 
> 
> And hopefully you can take away a very important message from this tale: Disney-like happily ever afters may not always exist, but--in the words of Moulin Rouge--"love lifts us up where we belong." Life, love (be it platonic or romantic), all of it... is worth it. So go enjoy it! :)
> 
> Thanks again!! You guys have been wonderful!! Love you all and stay safe, everyone! Over and out. <3

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @rosesandstuff


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